


Eros's Arrow

by SarahJaneS



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dogs, Drama, Epic Battles, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Grace Kink, Homosexuality, Love Confessions, M/M, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Romance, Supernatural Elements, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 105,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4087003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahJaneS/pseuds/SarahJaneS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel's mischeivious little brother Eros thinks it's a good idea to allow him to experience a full range of emotions and sensations, Cas is at a loss. With his heightened angelic awareness but without the cloud that shrouds most angels from feeling a full range of emotions, Castiel has to face what is truly inside his heart. Will Dean rise up to the challenge before it's too late? And will this be a fleeting obstacle in the trios life or something that is the start of changing all of them forever?</p><p>This is an ongoing story with individual parts that are 10 chapters each. This story takes place in the unknown future after the current episodes of canon (with some deviations from the actual story line in some minor parts). This story is primarily told from the perspectives of Castiel, Dean, and Sam Winchester intermittently. There are some areas of violence, smut, and profanity but nothing very intense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New Chapters will be released every weekend until the story's end. You have my word that this story WILL have an ending. Half of it is already written.  
> While I make references to the show, I might not be entirely accurate in my recollection to the plot line. If I missed anything, please let me know so I can improve the quality of my work.

Part One- Falling Angels

      Castiel thought he was a simple angel. He had a basic need to see that the hero of his tale finds his way to the end of the story. He didn’t really expect much more than that but liked to think that he was appreciated by his friends as much as he appreciated the time he spent with them. These were his wishes, and this is what made him happy. All of that changed, however, when he woke up one morning in the middle of a meadow. Castiel has yet to discover if the change was for better or for worse.

Chapter 1

      The sun felt warm on his face, like the hands of his father touching his skin and Castiel immediately sat upright, confused. How did the sun become so warm to him, and so bright to his eyes? Where was he and how did he get there?  
      Castiel does not require much rest if any, and usually spends the time that his companions are sleeping to run his own errands or explore the world he was privileged enough to visit. To awaken as he had, with no idea how he had gotten there, naturally led him to believe that outside influences were at play.  
      He looked around, squinting against the sun, and noticed that open fields were spread around him for quite a distance. Upon the lands horizon there appeared to be mountain ranges and trees to contrast the landscape, but little indication of location nearby. Castiel glanced down and noticed that the tall grass and wild flowers were flattened where he had lied which would indicate he had been there for some time.  
      Suddenly a pang of worry crept over him and Castiel thought about Dean and Sam. His closest and dearest friends might need him. They might be in danger. These thoughts brought about a panic in him like none he had ever felt before. Castiel sucked air deep into his nose to try to steady his nerves and a sudden convulsion of his body threw him to the ground. He stared puzzled at the flowers dancing before him and after a moment another convulsion took him.  
      Castiel knew what this was; he saw it often enough with the Winchester boys in the past. Castiel had just sneezed. Twice! But how could this happen? Had he ever sneezed before? Pushing away his worry for his friends, Cas reached out with timid fingers and rested them upon one of the white flowers swaying before him. The touch was silky and smooth; the petals cool under his fingers. He never saw the world like this before. It was as though a mask had been stripped away and suddenly everything became so clear to him.  
      Crawling across the meadow, Castiel stumbled over his trench coat, and eventually stripped it away entirely in his earnest desire to touch all the plants in front of him. He hardly needed his coat anyway. It was warm and he felt the heat like he had never done before. Cas laid upon the soft plant-life once more and it welcomed him with a cool bedding of frawns. He smiled and closed his eyes as the sun beamed heavy upon his face. How glorious this all felt! How utterly holy and sacred was this place.  
      “I see you are enjoying my gift,” said an airy voice and Castiel opened his eyes to a small shadow suddenly blocking his view of the sky.  
      “E-Eros?” Cas whispered, confused. He shielded his eyes against the sun and soon the slender figure of a young boy came into view. The young angel had grown since Cas last seen him, but his vessel’s slanted eyes and curly black hair lent him an air of childish mischief. “Why are you here?”  
       “Because!” Eros exclaimed as he twirled around the meadow, “I have been watching you for a long time. I love the adventures you are always doing with your human friends. They are all so exciting!” Eros turned then and pulled at Castiel’s arm until the angel was on his feet.  
       “But I have been getting bored of the story lately, Castiel. Just not enough dramatic flare with that angelic fog clogging up your emotion receptors. So I played around with a bit of angel magic and…I thought I would make you feel just a bit more human for a while.”  
      “I hate to disappoint you, but I have already been human. Twice in fact,” said Castiel as he retrieved his jacket.  
      “Oh yes yes,” Eros went on his a chuckle, “but not like this. Tell me, what do your senses say to you Castiel? Is this the same sensations you had when you were a lowly fallen angel wearing the cloak of another man’s body?” Castiel shook his head cautiously and studied the young boy before him. The smaller angel, perhaps wearing the vessel of a ten year old boy, circled him playfully as he spoke.  
      “I did not make you human Castiel, I took away the veil that father put on angels to stop them from feeling too much. You are the only angel among us who cares so deeply for these humans without falling the way Lucifer had done. This makes you the perfect person to experiment upon! Now, thanks to my help, you will have all your senses heightened and your emotions as well.” Castiel did not like the sound of any of this. If his father had wanted for a veil to be in place to mask the senses and emotions angels feel, then there was good reason for it.  
      “Why did you do this?” Castiel asked, feeling panic rise in his throat like hot bile.  
      “Because I was bored!” Eros shouted and he spread his arms wide in emphasis. “Because I want to see what you will do. Because I am sick of watching you and your friends beat each other up instead of talking about how you really feel. You, Castiel, are the warmest of angel kind. So I want to see you burn hot like a beacon for a while.”  
      “What if something happens? What if I put my friends in danger?” Castiel was wringing his hands, pleading with the boy, but he couldn’t seem to control himself enough to stop. His worry was growing into panic again. This was getting very bad.  
      “Well I suggest that you don’t do anything that would put your friends in danger for a while,” Eros said with a shrug, “and don’t worry too much over this Castiel. It would be a true disappointment if you were a blubbering mess the entire time you have this gift. Because, I regret to say that it will wear off eventually.”  
      “How long will it take to wear off?” Castiel asked, but Eros shrugged.  
      “A day, two days, a week? I am uncertain. You are the first that I tried this on. I am just excited to see that it worked! But I am almost certain it will wear off. It is angel magic after all, and no magic is eternal. Now go! Let’s have this game begin. I am eager to see where it takes us.” And with that Eros was gone. The sound of his wings echoed in Cas’s ears and he reached to cover them for a moment until it faded.  
      Trying to keep his breath steady, Cas looked down at his hands and saw they were shaking. This was bad. This was very very bad.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

  
      Castiel laid back down in the meadow and closed his eyes while he thought about what had just occurred. The sun felt so good on his skin he couldn’t resist its warm comfort. While this was enough to allow him to reluctantly appreciate Eros’s “gift”, he still dreaded what the rest entailed. Eros was a fool boy but also an angel which made him dangerous. This was not the first time he experimented on emotions and Castiel was determined to have him pay this time.  
      While he enjoyed the new sensations, Cas did not like the way it made him feel. Suddenly, he worried about how Sam and Dean thought of him. He worried about embarrassing himself. He contemplated about whether or not to tell them the situation he was in and hated himself for his indecision. These things were never an issue for him before and it tormented him beyond reason that his own mind held him hostage now.  
       Cas contemplated remaining in the meadow indefinitely until his emotions returned to normal, but he worried if he was not enough of a spectacle for Eros’s amusement, the young angel might do something to harm his friends. Cas never realized how deeply he worried over them or how often until now. Sam who was always so quick to rush into danger alone to prove himself, but was more likely to get himself killed. And then there was Dean…  
      The angel clutched at his chest and balled his shirt into his fist. What was this pain he felt? What did any of this mean to him? Never had he felt so vulnerable and alone as he did there in the meadow under that sun. He needed his friends to be there for him as he strived so hard to always be there for them. But what if they reject him? What if they push him away and make him go through this alone? No. He could not mistrust them the way he did his angel brothers. They were all he had in this world and at the moment, the world seemed pretty big to this one small insignificant messenger of god.  
      It was a good thing that Castiel still had his angelic powers unlike those times he spent as a human. He was able to move quickly back to where Dean and Sam last were and realized that they had checked out of their motel. How long had he been gone? They still carried the mark that hid them from all angels and so Castiel reached into the pocket of the coat he had draped on his arm to find the telephone device they insisted he carry. He moved his fingers without thought and punched in Dean’s number, but then paused. Staring at the familiar numbers on his telephone device, Castiel grew nervous. Feeling unready to explain himself to Dean, he cleared the numbers away again and dialed Sam instead.  
      “Hey Cas, what’s up?” the familiar voice of the younger brother sounded from his phone and Castiel sighed in relief at the casual tone of his friend. If they were in danger, he would not be so pleasant in his greeting.  
      “Sam I need to speak with you urgently. Something is the matter and….I need your help”  
      “…well ok,” Sam replied sounding a bit concerned. “It’s been a while since we heard from you. We are just camped out in the Rodeo Motel off of route 25. We are still investigating that case with-“  
      “I’ll be right there,” Cass said, cutting off the younger brother, and then he pressed the button that indicated the call would end. He stood there for a moment, staring at the phone in his hands. This was a phone that Dean had given him and Cas promised not to lose it. Perhaps it would be appropriate for him to give Dean something in return for his generous gift of communication. Cas spent many moments contemplating this, realizing indecisiveness was just one more trait he suddenly acquired, before giving over to the idea in frustration. He space shifted his body to the entrance of what Dean refers to as a “greasy spoon” nearby to the location that Sam indicated. Slipping the phone back into his jacket, he tugged at the door and slipped inside.

      “I understand what you are saying Dean, I just think that it’s a bad idea,” said Sam turning towards his brother. He was pacing again, feeling the weight of the cramped stuffy motel room on him, but he couldn’t seem to stop. A walk would be ideal, but he worried that if he left the room his block-head brother would take off without him.  
       “You always say it’s a bad idea but who ends up being right in the end? This guy,” Dean’s gruff voice retorted while he jabbed two thumbs towards his chest. They had been in the motel for almost a week now and Sam worried that the fake credit card they were using was going to max out soon. They had been tracking a group of ghouls up the eastern end of the state and had only recently caught up to them. What troubled Sam was that the moment they caught up to the ghouls was the moment the ghouls stopped running. Was it coincidence? Or perhaps this was their final destination? Sam suspected a vampire was involved. A very strong vampire to have four ghouls doing his bidding, and he did not like the idea of tackling such a foe without a little back up. It seems like someone was always cutting him open in these situations and drinking his blood. Dean, however, thought it was a great idea to just roll into their den unannounced and take the ghouls out before anyone knew they were coming. This crazy idea might even work except for Sam’s hunch the lot of them already knew the brothers were there.  
      “Dean,” Sam said, letting out a sigh and throwing himself across his bed, “Cas said he was coming. He needed to talk to us so let’s just wait until we know what’s-“ A soft knock at the door cut Sam off mid-sentence. Dean, once lounging lazily on his bed, was to his feet in an instant with a gun in his hand. Sam recognized it to be the Colt- the special gun that allowed them to kill almost any supernatural creature- and was grateful to have it present. Dean edged his way over to the door and checked the peep-hole before stepping back and stuffing the pistol into the back of his pants.  
      “Cas,” he declared over his shoulder and opened the door. Before them Cas stood, but he seemed different somehow. His eyes grew wide when he looked at Dean, then his gaze darted to Sam, and back to Dean once more. His mouth worked for a moment, struggling to find words, and he clutched at a large bag in his hands. His coat was also off, and slung over his shoulder.  
      “Dean,” his voice was soft and almost sounded afraid to Sam. It immediately rang warning bells in his mind. Something was wrong.  
      “Cas?” Dean said in response, both puzzled and wary, “What’s up buddy?” Cas stared at Dean a moment longer and then shook his head as though to clear his thoughts and held out the large bag in front of him like an offering. The bag appeared to be pocked with grease stains and was heaping full.  
      “I wanted to thank you for the telephone device,” Cas said sheepishly as he looked down at his feet, “I brought you bacon cheeseburgers. They are your favorite.”  
      “Now we’re talking!” Dean said as he snatched the bag out of Cas’s hands, “whoa, Cas, how many burgers are in here, it weighs a ton?”  
      “Thirty five,” Cas responded matter-of-factly, “Although I took a bite out of one. So perhaps that should be revived to thirty four point seventy five.” Sam laughed at this. Surely Cas was making a joke. Did Cas ever make jokes?  
      “Wow, Cas, that’s great, cause I’m fricken starving!” said Dean and Cas looked up. He beamed with an enormous smile. Sam never saw Cas smile like that before. Something was definitely different about the angel.  
      “Yea Cas, we’re both a little hungry. We have been in here all day trying to figure out a plan for this case. Did you get me anything?” asked Sam and Cas’s smile quickly vanished. He looked at Sam, utterly distraught, and then his eyes dropped to his feet once more.  
      “I got the burgers for Dean. I wanted to thank him for the telephone device.”  
      “You mean the cell phone,” Sam said and Cas nodded without lifting his head. “The one we got you six months ago?”  
      “I am really grateful to have it.” Cas said and glanced at Sam apologetically. Sam studied Cas for a moment trying to make sense of all these facial expressions and emotions. His face also seemed to be…tanner. He glanced at Dean who was already finishing the first of many bacon cheeseburgers, then offered for Cas to sit down.  
      “Cas,” Sam said joining the two men at the small motel table, “you said you needed our help. What’s going on?” Cas rested his hands on the glass topped table and started at them intently. He seemed to not be able to meet either brother’s eyes. After a while, he found the voice to speak.  
      “I was visited by the angel Eros today. It seems that he is up to his old tricks.”  
      “Eros? I haven’t heard of this angel before. Not in the demon war or at any other time,” said Sam.  
      “He is a different kind of angel,” Cas said softly, his eyes unmoving from his hands. “He is only a boy first of all, a few hundred years old, but also he likes to play games. Experiments he calls them. You might have heard of the last series of experiments he conducted…back then he went by a different name among the humans of the time. Back when they thought him to be a god.” Cas looked up at Sam then and his eyes shone with what looked like desperation. It gave Sam chills to see him looking so defenseless.  
      “What was his name?” Dean said around bites of burger and Cas glanced at his brother before dropping his eyes to his hands once more.  
      “I believe the name he was given long ago….was Cupid.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

      “So let me get this straight,” Dean said after Cas accounted the events in the meadow. He had managed to pound through five of those bad ass burgers before his gut had to call it quits. Cas really outdid himself this time. “This cupid angel hit you with his love arrow or whatever and now you are all ooey gooey emotional?”

      “That…about sums it up,” Cas said nervously, and Dean studied the angel for a few moments. He didn’t know what to make of Cas acting this way. Always before the angel was just there. Sure he had some boundary issues but he was dependable. Cas seemed so insecure Dean doubted he would be any use at all to them in a fight now. Which was a damn shame cause they were going up against a lot of crap.  
      “How long will this go on?” Dean asked and Cas shrugged.  
      “He didn’t say, but he assured me it would end eventually.”  
      “Well this is just fucking great,” Dean exclaimed as he got out of his chair. His stomach felt like a rock and he needed to move around to get them bacon babies through the old plumbing.  
      “Calm down, Dean,” said Sam, always the tenderhearted worrier. Of course now they apparently had two worriers in their group. Two Sammys to contend with. Just fucking great.  
      “I am calm! I just don’t know how this guy is going to do us a lick of good against that ghoul nest,” Dean snapped stabbing a finger at the solemn angel. He was glaring at Sammy, not even noticing what he had said or did until a small inhale of breath drew his attention to where Cas was sitting. The angels head was down lower than before so that his face was hidden from view, but Dean could see that his shoulders jerked as he took in staggered breaths. “Cas…” Dean began hesitantly as he moved towards the table again, “buddy…” Cas suddenly lifted his head to face Dean, and his face was wet with the tears spilling from his large blue eyes.  
      “Dean I am so sorry,” he wept, “I am useless to you now. I cannot help you…either of you. I am so ashamed.”  
      “Cas…” Sam began but already Dean was at the angels side. He pulled at the pile of napkins that came with along burger mountain and leaned over to wiped at his friends face.  
      “Hush, it’s alright. I’m sorry I yelled like I did. I’m just all worked up over being pent up in this hotel all day with goldilocks over there.”  
      “What does that even mean?” he heard Sam exclaim but Dean’s focus was on his friend. Cas’s crying was reduced to quiet sniffling, but his eyes never left Deans. Dean suddenly felt very close in proximity to his friends body. The way Cas looked at him in that moment left him almost paralyzed as if under a spell. The intensity of his gaze. The open honest vulnerability of his clear blue eyes…Dean suddenly felt something in his heart that he never paid attention to before. It felt like he just kicked the biggest crap pile of hornet’s nests he had ever seen and stomped on it for good measure. He felt like he was swimming; downing in those two pools of blue; falling…  
      “Guys?” Sam said behind him, and suddenly the spell was broken. Dean turned away and cleared his throat.  
      “I need to take a walk,” he said abruptly as he stomped towards the door, and a moment later he was out of the room.

      “How does it feel?” Sam asked Castiel, and the angel closed his eyes to try to shut out the world. The room smelled stale and salty. The air felt thick and heavy upon his skin. He yearned to feel the crystal clarity of the meadow again and the sun. He could hear Sam’s breath coming in even eager rhythm, and could hear the subtle drip of a toilet in the other room in need of repair.  
      “How do I feel,” he repeated the question but could not begin to describe it. He felt scared, vulnerable, raw and unhindered. He felt like he was constantly falling off the edge of a cliff but never landing at the bottom. “Horrible.” Was what he concluded. But then there was Dean. The warm burning he felt when he saw Dean left him feeling as though he couldn’t catch his breath. Did Dean always make him feel this way? What did it even mean? Was this apart of Eros’s spell, or had these feelings always been there under some filmy layer of angel apathy?  
      “What happened there with you and Dean,” Sam pressed and Cas felt a tinge of annoyance.  
      “I don’t know,” he said sharply and opened his eyes to look up at his friend. Sam was standing now and towered over Cas which made him feel so insignificant and small. “I don’t understand any of this. I am so sorry Sam.”  
      “No, no it’s ok,” Sam said and suddenly he was smiling warmly down at Cas. Sam always gave too much of himself to those around him. It just ended up hurting him in the end. Realizing this just made Cas want to cry all over again and he broke away from Sam’s gaze to look out the motel window. The curtain was only slightly drawn but he could make out the sun descending over the ridge in the sky.  
      “Will he be back soon?” Cas ventured. He worried about Dean’s safety but he also secretly yearned to look at his friend again. To feel the peace that came from the other man’s presence.  
      “If I know Dean,” Sam said, “he’s probably just getting a six pack and will be back in no time.” Cas nodded at this. He hoped Sam was right.

 

      “Bartender! Give me another!” Dean announced and the bartender obliged him with another shot. This bar was a dive. Most the women were spent, and the music was far too Shania Twain for Dean’s taste, but it fit the bill to get his mind off of certain angels.  
      _Dean…_ Cas’s voice sounded in his mind. Dean swallowed the shot without barely a taste and turned to examine the female variety in the crowd. There was one in the corner that seemed to be riding solo that evening and didn’t look too bad to him. He hadn’t seen her the first time he looked around. He wondered when she strolled in. Grabbing his beer from the bar, Dean presented his best saunter and made his way over to where she sat.  
      “Hello there,” he said, and when she looked up at him he offered her his best smile. Her legs were long, and her dress was short. She wore her chestnut hair in a braid down her back and stuffed her feet into a pair of worn cowgirl boots. She eyed him suspiciously at first, but then relented a smile and gestured for him to sit. “My name’s Dean”  
      “Angel,” the girl offered back and Dean fought to not cringe. “Something wrong?” she said reading his face.  
      “Not at all,” He mumbled, and took a deep draw from his beer. “Can I get you a drink?” She consented and he motioned the bartender over. After they both ordered a drink he settled in to get to know Angel a bit better. He wondered if Sammy and Cas could vacate the motel room for this one or if he could just get her in the backseat of his car.  
      “So what brings you out tonight, Angel?”  
      “I just needed to have a good time. I have been stuck up on my father’s ranch for whole winter and the spring air has me feeling a bit…frisky.” She finished the later with a wink and Dean offered her another smile. This was going to be a hell of a lot easier than he thought.  
      _What are you doing?_ Cas’s voice sounded in his head and Dean’s smile faltered a little. Since when did Cas talk to him in his mind? Did he do some sort of mind voodoo with those eyes of his? Pushing the thoughts way he focused on his new friend.  
      “Well let me be the first to congratulate you on choosing the right man for the job,” Dean said lifting his bottle and Angel cocked an eyebrow at him.  
      “You know I have been sitting in here all night and you are the first guy to even approach me? Most of the men in here are twice my age and are friends with my father,” Angel wrinkled her nose at this and her eyes scanned the crowd.  
      “I take it you don’t think highly of the man,” noted Dean and his new friend shrugged.  
      “I don’t’ know. He’s one of those power-trip kind of guys. He got some friends that rolled in to town about a week ago and has them working for him on the farm.” This got Dean’s attention and he set down his bottle of beer.  
      “What kind of new friends,” Dean asked.  
 _Don’t sound too eager there,_ Cas’s voice whispered in his head again and Dean gritted his teeth. _Shut up, Cas!_  
      “They just kind of wander around. Weird sort of bunch. It drives the cows crazy to have them there. They sleep in the barn out back, and the one night…” Angel trailed off and looked down at her drink.  
      “Go on,” Dean urged. She lifted the glass and downed the beverage in one gulp which Dean thought was quite impressive.  
      “A few nights back I swear the one leaned over and…smelled me in the kitchen. Made my skin crawl.” Angel shivered at this and her eyes went back to searching the crowd.  
      “Not the kind of company I would want hanging around,” Dean agreed, “maybe I can come over and check things out. Maybe get a feel for these guys.” Angel eyed him suspiciously. “I mean only if you want to. And for the…cows…” Dean shook his head feeling like the world’s greatest idiot.  
      “I don’t think they are there tonight,” she said cautiously, “they went out.”  
      “Do you know where they went?” Dean asked.  
      _Too eager, Dean. Too eager_ , Cas crooned, and Dean smacked his fist hard on the table between them. The glasses rattled and Angel startled in her seat.  
      “Uh…sorry,” Dean muttered and got out of his seat. This was getting out of hand. He needed to get Castiel out of his mind. “Look, I gotta go. Sorry to cut things short but I need to get back to my brother.” He reached for a bar napkin and wrote his number on the back of it. “If these friends of your dad causes you any more grief, give me a call, ok? I’ll be around.”  
      “Oh,” Angel said slipping out of her chair as well. Her legs were much longer than he thought and she tugged at the dress threatening to reveal a little too much of what she had to offer. “Are you sure you don’t want to…um…go somewhere more quiet?”  
      _If you sleep with that girl, so help me Dean…_  
      “Shut up, Cas!” Dean shouted and Angel recoiled. Dean tucked his head and scratched behind his ear, trying to regain his composure. “Sorry,” he said at last, “it’s been a long night.”  
      “No problem,” Angel replied, laughing nervously. Dean stalked into the night knowing full well that girl was never going to call him. Dammit. The motel was only just up the road but Dean made the trek back slowly. He needed to sort out his mind. What the hell happened in there? What the hell was going on with him and Cas?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

  
      Cas was standing outside of the motel when Dean returned. He stood stoic beside the entrance to the darkened room within.  
      “You were gone for a long time, I was worried,” Cas said as soon as Dean came into the light of the motel sign. Dean looked up at him and could clearly see just how worried Castiel was by those two blue emotion portals boring into his skin. He had not realized how late it had gotten but Cas was right, he had been gone for a while. He spent the whole time in the bar trying to escape from his thoughts and then the whole walk back to their room trying to make sense of them. His mind kept returning to the moment that Cas looked up at him and their eyes met. He didn’t understand why and he didn’t like not knowing what was going on in his head.  
      “Yeah, uh…sorry Cas,” Dean ventured while he scratched at his head. He couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes. He was worried that it would affect him in the same way as the encounter before.  
      “Do you not want me here?” Cas asked and Dean looked up at him in spite of himself.  
      “What?”  
      “Are you late to return because you want to avoid me?” his voice sounded all business but there was hurt in the man’s eyes. Dean wasn’t good at this. He didn’t like to have the heart-to-hearts with Sammy, and now he’s getting put in the position where he has to have one with an angel as well.  
      “Cas…no, I…I just needed to work some things out.” Like why his heart was racing for no fucking reason, and why he felt so nervous with the other man staring at him.  
      “Did you?” Cas took a step towards Dean, and then another. Coming off of the motel stoop and into the sandy parking lot where he stood. The act made Dean feel wary and yet comforted at the same time. He liked the way he felt when Cas was close by, but was freaked out that he felt that way.  
      “Not really,” Dean admitted, “But I’m trying.”  
      “What are you trying to work out, Dean?” Cas said and suddenly he was there, standing right next to Dean, with his head cocked to one side, and his eyes trying to strip away every layer Dean covered himself in to take comfort in his empty inside. Dean had that feeling again. He was drowning, he was falling…  
      “Cas…we talked about personal space…” Dean whispered and his voice broke at the end.  
      “Sorry, Dean,” Cas said reluctantly and he stepped away from his friend. Dean let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and moved to walk around the angel. He didn’t know how much more of this emotional roller coaster he was willing to ride that night.  
      “Come on, it’s getting pretty late and I want to talk to Sam in the morning. We should get to bed.”  
      “I do not sleep, Dean,” Cas said following behind him.  
      “Then read a book or something,” Dean retorted as he opened the door. Sam was already sound asleep in his bed and as usual, Dean’s bed staked claim closest to the door.         He threw himself onto the mattress and groaned from the long day. He stared up at the ceiling but could see Cas from the corner of his eye slip into the room and close the door behind him with a loud click. The angel moved toward the table and eased into one of the chairs where he sat and turned to watch Dean sleep. Dean tried to ignore the other man and stared hard at the pocked plaster of the ceiling. After a while he let out a long sigh. It was no use.  
     “Do you have to sit there and stare at me like that?” he snapped at the plaster on the ceiling.  
      “I am sorry Dean, I don’t know where else to go.”  
      “Just turn your back or something so you aren’t looking at me.” So Cas did as requested and turned the chair so that he was staring at the wall. Dean watched him for a moment and then sighed again. “Cas that’s stupid. Stop staring at the wall.”  
      “But you said…”  
      “Forget what I said. Is there somewhere else you can go for the night?” Dean asked and watched as Cas contemplated this question.  
      “I would like to go to the meadow,” he said at last in a small voice.  
      “Fine. Go there. I’ll have you come back in the morning.”  
      “Yes, Dean,” Cas replied, and with a flap of wings, he was gone.

      Sam was awake long before Dean and took the time to tidy the room. It was ridiculous how many burgers Cas had brought for Dean. How did he even pay for all of them? And a waste too. Sam could not bring himself to eat such things and tried to make it a point to balance his diet as best he could on the road. He was certain that as soon as Dean reached thirty-five, all these burgers and slices of pie were going to catch up to him and he was going to get fat. Sam truly looked forward to the day so that he could taunt his brother twice over for all the comments Dean made about Sam’s food choices. With the food properly disposed of, and his bed made. Sam took a quick shower then moved to wake up his brother.  
      “Dean, it’s almost 11 o’clock. Seriously, dude. You need to get up.” Dean groaned at his brother, but managed to roll out of his bed and slink into the bathroom. Sam flipped through the local news while waiting for his brother to get done, and settled in to watch a local station discuss the big fair that was going to open that weekend. Fairs are idea spots for monster feedings.  
      Dean stepped out of the bathroom dressed in his usual jeans and tee; toweling his hair and with a toothbrush stick in his mouth. He reached for his phone to check for messages.  
      “Looking to see if Cas called?” Sam teased but Dean leveled him with a flat stare that Sam could only imagine its meaning. “I mean, you know, ‘cause he was thanking you for his phone yesterday.” Dean relaxed a little at this but didn’t respond. Instead he went to spit his toothpaste out and toss his towel on the bathroom floor. When he returned, he looked around disgruntled.  
      “Where are my burgers?” He asked and Sam threw his hands up in exasperation.  
      “Oh come on, they set out all night. You know how many diseases could be caused by those things?”  
      “Sammy they were still good, and you wasted them! Come on, let’s go get some breakfast. I need to ask some of the natives about a certain Angel that lives around here.”  
      “An angel?” Sam asked puzzled, and Dean seemed to flinch.  
      “Not _an_ angel, a _girl_ named Angel. Come on, I’ll explain while we eat.”

       Castiel opened his eyes to the sun rising at his feet and listened to the chorus of birds reciting their morning song. He had spent the night in the meadow listening to the rustle of grass from the wind and hearing all the night sounds of animals and insects keeping chorus in time. It was a lovely and peaceful place, and he wished he could never leave. Yesterday was horrible. He upset Dean somehow, and he cried; openly sobbed in front of both of his friends. It was no wonder they did not call him to return. He wanted to just disappear forever with all the embarrassment and shame he was feeling.  
      “It’s about time you find your way back don’t you think?” Eros called, but Castiel did not bother to turn his face to greet the boy. This past day had been utterly exhausting and he was in no hurry to face another long day in this state. “Come on, Cas, the party is just getting started. You can’t bow out now.”  
      “I will be certain to repay you for this when I am better,” Cas said sternly, “…and I will go when I am ready,” he added, trying his best not to sound sullen.  
      “You mean you will go when they summon you to,” Eros corrected and Cas could not argue that point of truth. “You need to learn to be a little more reckless, Castiel. After all, they have to forgive any transgressions with your current state of mind. Don’t you think? If I am going to have hell and Holy fire rain down upon me, I at least want to enjoy my experiment to its completion!”  
      “Is tormenting me worth what it will cost you, boy?” Castiel spat at the sky.  
      “Come on, Castiel. You can’t hide forever.” Cas thought about this a moment and realized that Eros had a point. It hurt him that it was already well into the day and still he heard no word from Dean. He tormented over how to approach this without being too intrusive. Maybe though, he should just go. He asked for his friends to help him and they seemed willing, so he should go to them now and seek out that help. They would understand. Dean would understand.  
      Slowly, Castiel moved his stiff legs and made his way to his feet. The cold of the earth must have crept into his body and caused him to ache in ways he didn’t know he was capable of. Perhaps another side effect of the game Eros was playing. Thinking about the boy, he turned to look for him in the meadow but the angel had already made his departure. Just as well, Cas really didn’t want to speak civilly to him anyway. Closing his eyes, Cas space shifted to the motel room where the Winchester boys were housed and found it to be empty. The television still rolled through news footage and condensation still fell from the bathroom mirror. They had not been gone long then, but Cas was willing to wait for them to return. Sitting at the edge of Dean’s bed, he thought of ways he could occupy his time, and looked into the open bathroom at the shower.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading my story! While originally intended to be a 3 part series, I have been facing a lot of conflicted emotions as I finish writing chapter 24. I am nearing the end and I know that it should end nicely, and well rounded, I am also sad that my story will be over. I am contemplating starting a new story arc- or season if you will- picking up where this one leaves off, or possibly just starting over and in a different direction for the crew. I guess it will all depend on how successful this story line is. So as time progresses, and we reach the end of the line, let me know what you think. 
> 
> Thank you all and keep on reading!  
> Sarah Jane

Chapter 5

  
     “So you kept hearing Castiel’s voice in your head?” Sam asked.  
     “That’s not the point of this conversation,” snapped Dean.  
     “Yes but…why?” asked Sam and Dean could only shrug. He felt it necessary to explain why he had shouted at Angel so that Sam could understand that she might not be so willing to call him, but he was loathed to admit how Cas was on his mind so much the previous night.  
     “Look, can we just…not talk about him for a little while?” Dean asked as he stabbed into his eggs and bacon.  
     “Sure, Dean, I just…I’m really worried about him. That’s all.”  
     “Yeah,” Dean admitted, “I am too.” They finished their breakfast in silence, already deciding on a course of action with the ranch house and its new visitors. It was easy enough to figure out where Angel Murray and her family lived by the locals, and the brothers hoped to enter the barn in the night and not have the family even know they were there. Except, that is, for the four ghoul corpses they’ll be leaving behind when they go.  
     “Do you think a vampire is involved?” Sam asked as they made their way back to the car and Dean shook his head. No, this didn’t smell like vampire, but they were missing some key element. Why would a local rancher pair up with a group of flesh eating ghouls? And what would they want with the ranch anyway? Dean hoped they would figure all that out while they were working on cleaning out the nest. At least, that was the plan anyway.  
     They returned to the motel room in short order and Sam thumbed the key into the door giving way to let them inside. One glance at the room and both men stopped in their tracks by the entrance way. Books were opened and half examined, clothes pulled from their bags and tossed casually over the two beds, and the television blared larger than life. A sound came from the bathroom and Dean drew his gun as he slipped into the room, moving towards the bathroom door. Sam shut the door behind him and the room sank into a din with the curtains shielding them from the brightness outside. Sam was next to Dean in the blink of an eye and both brothers exchanged knowing glances the way they had done in countless fights before. Sam leaned over and turned the knob softly, and with one last glance at each other, he threw open the door so that Dean could step inside with the gun drawn before him.  
     The bathroom bellowed steam into the motel room with the door ajar and quickly the boys took in the scene. Toothpaste was squirted all over the sink, with Sam’s razor tilting haphazardly into the toilet. Amidst it all, the shower curtain was snugged against the wall, and there in the tub stood Castiel, naked as a baby, and stretching under the sprays of the showerhead. Dean lowered his gun as he felt his face grow hot and he quickly turned away.  
     “Cas what are you doing,” he could hear Sammy saying, but his hearts pounding beat made his brother’s voice muffled and distant. “You need to close the curtain, you’re getting water everywhere!”  
     “I am so sorry, Sam. But the shower feels so good! I never felt this amazing sensation before.” Dean closed his eyes at the sound of Castiel’s voice. It had been so much easier when the man showed little emotion. Dean’s heart didn’t burn and his stomach didn’t churn in this way. Before yesterday, he could almost ignore the other man’s presence until he needed him. It seemed like Dean was always needing him though, and if that meant something more than what he let on…well, what of it? But now, with Castiel laid open and vulnerable the way he was, it seems as though Cas was all the Dean could think of.  
 _Did I look pleasing to you, Dean?_ Cas’s voice sounded in his mind and Dean turned to leave the motel room. Sam, busy trying to clean up the watery mess in the bathroom, didn’t notice him go which was just as well. Dean needed to try to forget the image of Castiel standing there naked in the shower. The way the water worked down his chest and how his hair was pulled back from his face. The way his legs moved and shifted against each other as he turned to feel the water against his back.  
 _Yes, Castiel,_ Dean thought reluctantly _, you looked very pleasing to me._

     “I don’t think Dean likes me,” Castiel said and Sam frowned. He had no idea what was going on with his brother, but he could have at least left a damn note to say where he was going all of a sudden.  
     “Nah, I don’t think it’s that,” Sam offered reassuringly, but he couldn’t be so sure. In some ways Cas has become a child, learning from infancy how to process all these new emotions and sensations. So it’s no wonder he seems so different than before. Maybe Dean just couldn’t handle all the erratic emotions from the angel. Or maybe there was more to it than that. Sam had his suspicions for a while.  
     “I don’t know what to do. I feel this way that I cannot describe in words, Sam. I feel it when I am with Dean.” Sam turned to Cas intrigued. The angel had toweled and dressed again but his hair was still damp and hung loosely at his eyes.  
     “What do you mean?” Sam offered when Cas did not continue on his own.  
     “When I see Dean,” Cas began and then stopped to swallow. “This is hard for me to say,” he admitted after a moment.  
     “Please, go on,” said Sam and Castiel took in a deep breath.  
     “When I see Dean, it feels like my chest burns,” he said and then pulled at his shirt with this hands, balling them into fists. “It hurts and yet it doesn’t, but oddly it’s like I want to feel it all the time. I want him to be here all the time.”  
     “I feel flutters here” Cas said, pointing at his chest,  
     “Here” pointing at his stomach,  
     “And here” pointing at his groin.  
     Sam looked away. Spots of color formed at his cheeks and his eyes grew wide like saucers. He could hardly believe it was actually Cas saying all of this.  
     “But then he always leaves,” Cas continued, “and it hurts so badly to see him go, I almost never want him to come back. Why does it hurt to see Dean leave? Why do I feel this way when I see him here?” Sam took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.  
     “Because…” he ventured, turning to face his friend again, “you love him.”  
     “This is not love,” Cas declared.  
     “This is most definitely love,” Sam argued.  
     “I have always cared for Dean. I care for him and you and want to protect you both. That is what love is.”  
     “Yes…” Sam was not sure how to make things more clear for Castiel, “that is love in its own way, but this is love too. That love doesn’t have all those other emotions mixed in. Longing…passion…desire...”  
     “This love is horrible, Sam. I want it to stop. I don’t want Dean to run away from me anymore. I miss him so…” Cas scrubbed at his eyes and Sam welled with sympathy for the poor angel.  
     “Well you won’t feel that way forever, right? Eros said it would be temporary so, just hang in there and it will be fine. You’ll see.” Cas sniffed back his tears for a few moments longer and then both men sat in silence as the afternoon crept into evening.  
     “Sam,” Cas said after a while.  
     “Yeah?”  
     “Would this be an appropriate time for friends to hug?” Cas asked in a small voice. Sam turned to his friend and put his arm around Cas. He pulled the angel close to him as they continued to wait for Dean to come home.  
     “Any time is an appropriate time for friends to hug. You’ll get through this Cas. It will be ok.”  
     “Thank you, Sam.”


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

      Dean returned just after sunset and went about readying his ammunition. Sam followed suit and sharpened machetes. If it was ghouls living up in the ranch’s barn, then they needed to sever the head. Cas sat at the table quietly watching the brother’s at their work. There was no discussion made, but everyone silently agreed that Cas would be no help to the men in this hunt. He was too sporadic with his emotions and could end up getting all of them killed. Instead, he was the first to say he would remain behind at the motel and promised to not do any more exploring while he waited.  
      Sam glanced at Cas and noticed his eyes still looked red from his earlier tears. He worried how this would end with Cas and Dean. He always suspected that there was a stronger connection between the two men, but Castiel always lacked the genuine emotion to make the connection mean anything. Now it seemed as though Castiel was overwhelmed with his emotion but how long would it last? And when it was done, and he goes back to the angel he was before, what will happen to Dean? Sam tried to push the thoughts away. He wanted to focus on the hunt now. He needed to be in his game.  
      “Alright,” Dean said as he rose to his feet, “we go to where the locals said this ranch is located and camp out until the Murray family seems to all be fast asleep. Then we swoop in like the couple of bad-asses that we are and take down those sons of bitches in the barn.”  
      “We need to know what they are up to first, Dean,” Sam corrected, “Ghouls are usually scavengers and if they aren’t praying on humans there is no cause to kill them.”  
      “Yeah yeah,” Dean waved his brothers caution away, “if they have been on the run for this long, we already know they are up to something. Come on. Let’s go see some heads roll.” Dean slung his gun over his shoulder, grabbed a machete, and headed for the door. Sam turned and silently waved goodbye to Castiel before following suit. He only hoped they could return to tell the tale to the friend they were leaving behind.

      They drove out of town and deeper into the rugged mid-west countryside. They were told that there were a small cluster of ranches about ten miles out of town off a road called Drybone. Not that any of these roads were marked, but Dean figured he would get into the general area and hoof it the rest of the way in.  
      “So let’s go over the plan again,” Sam said and Dean rolled his eyes. Sam planned a little too much in his opinion.  
      “So we roll in there all stealth like,” Dean began, “and try our best not to be noticed until we are ready…” he reviewed the plan in its entirety and Sam reviewed all the possible “what if” scenarios he could muster. He already knew the answers to most of his questions, he just needed the reassurance. Sam has grown so much since he became a hunter and Dean was even willing to admit that they got each other’s backs better than he and his dad ever did.  
      _Dad…_ The familiar tinge of hurt in his chest returned every time he thought of the man. He pushed it aside and buried it deep before it became more than what he could handle. Soon they were pulling into a small turn-around off the side of the road and Dean killed the engine to his car. Dean and Sam slipped out of the car wordlessly and made their way farther down the road on foot to where a dirt lane jutted off to the left.  
      “This is just over ten miles outside of town,” Dean said just above a whisper, “this has got to be the road we’re looking for.” Sam followed Dean without a word as they broke away from the main drag and onto the gravel road. The soft leather of their hard worked shoes gave little sound against the crunching stones, and they moved deeper into the darkness. Sam offered a flashlight from his pack but Dean shook his head. The moon was well enough in the sky overhead that he could see without falling on his ass, and he didn’t want to risk detection.  
      The brothers walked for quite a while until they approached the first ranch house. Fortunately, many of these ranch goers liked to put titles on their farms and a sign hanged at the driveway entrance declaring the farm to be “Peterson’s Nest”. Not a very Murray sounding name, so Dean and Sam moved on. They explored two more driveways and even a neighboring barn but continued to come up empty handed as the night drug on.  
      “Maybe it was a bad lead,” whispered Sam, but Dean shook his head. It was an odd coincidence that this girl suddenly appeared and her story fell into his lap. He knew the ghouls had nested in the area all week but just couldn’t seem to weasel them out of their nest, and then suddenly the nests location is hand delivered to him. No, he didn’t think       it was a bad lead, but he did suspect that this might be some sort of bad trap.  
      Drybone road took a sharp turn to the left and the brothers climbed the slope of a hill in the path. At its crest, they paused to study the large farm spread out below them where Drybone road reached its end. Dean could hear the cows groaning in the one barn directly adjacent to the house, but there was a smaller barn some ways back behind a tractor shed. A variety of other outbuildings littered the property, but all including the farm house were lights-out. Dean checked his watch; it was 8:25.  
      “Something is wrong,” Sam said shaking his head. “This doesn’t look right.”  
      “Yeah…you aren’t kidding,” Dean muttered as he studied the landscape. What to do…what to do…  
      “Maybe we should come back,” Sam said; always the cautious one. Dean barked a dry chuckle. He suspected if they left now, the ghouls would move on again and all this stewing in the motel would have been for nothing. No, it had to be then and now. No more excuses. Dean turned off of the road and into the high grass alongside to somewhat hide his figure to the farm before them. He heard Sam calling after him but he didn’t respond. Sam would follow. He always did.  
      The closer he got, Dean began to notice a flicker of firelight concealed by some of the buildings. He also saw the slight shadow of movement near those flames. So that would be his destination then. He hoped to capture one of the ghouls to question what they were doing befriending a local farmer, but if they were all gathered together that would not be an option.  
      Suddenly hands were upon him and Dean felt himself being thrown to the ground. He landed with a grunt as the wind was knocked out of him, and tried to turn to face his attacker. Fortunately Sam was on the creature before it had a chance to do further damage, and his brother grabbed it from behind to wrestle it away from Dean. Dean reached behind his back and wrapped hands around the colt. He drew it out in front of him just as the shadowy shape wrestled free from Sam and took off running away from the farm. Dean thought about firing, but didn’t know what they were up against and if it would do any good. Plus he didn’t want to alert the others below to their location, which a gunshot would most certainly do. He watched as the figure moved towards the crest of the hill and paused to turn back and look at him. The moon caught its face in such a way that Dean could almost make out its features.  
      “Angel?” he whispered to the night air, and then the figure turned and was gone.  
      “Was that your friend from the bar?” Sam asked as he helped Dean to his feet.  
      “I don’t know…I think so,” Dean said shaking his head.  
      “She was pretty strong Dean. What is she? A ghoul? A demon?” Dean just shook his head at his brother’s questions. His feeling about this whole situation was going from bad to let’s-get-the-hell-out-of-here. He was going to suggest this course of action when he turned and could see that some of the figures at the farm had broken away from the fire and were dragging a screaming girl towards it. She looked to be about thirteen. Cursing under his breath, he motioned Sam to follow him as the crouched down closer to the earth.  
      They were able to get in closer than Dean expected and his stomach churned as he counted not four but eight figures around the fire. Upon the fire there appeared to be a roasting spit and a few of the monsters where cutting the girls clothes away while the others watched. Some of them cheered.  
      “Looks like they are going for cooked meat these days instead of the rotting variety,” Sam muttered to Dean. “What do we do? There are too many of them to take all at once.” Dean studied the situation and reviewed all the tactics he has used in the past.  
      Come on, Dean, think damn you, whispered Cas in his mind and the voice of his friend seemed to calm to wrenching in his gut. He took a deep breath.  
“We’re going in.”


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

      Muggock closed his eyes and smelled the tenderness of the girls flesh. He could hear the way her heart raced and pumped lovely red blood just beneath her skin. His tribe had been there for a week now, and were promised human flesh every night but this was the first that master delivered. Muggock was sick to death of cows. Their flesh too soft, the meat too chewy. And this girl was so young! A real delicacy to eat.  
      Muggock glanced up at the moon and then scanned the horizon. It was getting late, and it wouldn’t be long now. If the hunters were coming, they would come soon and then perhaps Muggock will have more than tender girl flesh to eat. He could make out very little against the landscape but it did not matter. He was just the lure, he and his tribe, the real trap would flank them from behind. Master was waiting among the trees. They suspect the hunters will try to take them out from a distance. Some might die, but it will be for a higher cause. This is what master proclaimed and Muggock listened. Turning his attention back to the young girl, he smiled and waited.  
      “Hey guys, how’s it going?” Muggock and his tribe all turned to see two med appear from behind a building and walk towards the fire. Where had they come from so quickly? Why had they not fired distant shots as planned? Before Muggock had a chance to voice these questions, one of the men pulled out a shotgun and fired it at one of Muggock’s tribe. His friends head burst open like a ripe cadaver and he toppled forward lifeless. Muggock screeched and fell to his stomach. He wanted to be brave, and fight the fight that master wanted of them, but he was so scared to die. Muggock covered his head and listened as his friends were murdered. Where was master? Why did he not help them?  
      “That is quite enough,” Muggock heard a familiar voice say and he lifted his head enough to see master enter the light of the fire. The two men turned and pointed guns at him. Master stood tall and proud before them with his teeth like razors glistening in the firelight.  
      “Oh I think I’m just getting started,” said the one man, “seems like there are a few more scumbags looking to get executed.” He had a sharp tongue.  
      “They are not fighting back,” offered master with a gesture of his hand.  
      “They were going to cook an innocent girl!” shouted the taller man. Muggock blinked against the smoke that swirled near him and scuffled towards one of the buildings nearby. He wanted to bear witness to his master but did not want to get killed in the process.  
      “Yes, well…” master said with a shrug, “innocence is in the eye of the beholder. You see, I could say the same of you, could I not? Sam and Dean Winchester. Killing hundreds of my brothers and sisters and yet you could claim yourselves to be innocent, true?” Master circled around the two men, putting his back to the flame.  
      “You’re…vetala,” offered the taller man, “what are you doing paling around with a bunch of ghouls?”  
      “And where is your buddy? We know you shitheads always work in pairs,” offered the other man with the sharp tongue. Muggock studied the word. Vetala. He knew master to drink blood as they all did. Human blood was the best kind. But he did not ever put a name to what the man was before. This made him seem all the more important. Muggock felt needed to protect his master, and with this sudden realization he felt a surge of purpose well up in his body. These men would try to kill his master if he did not try to stop them first. He had to take action.  
      “I think it is past time your hunting days are over, boys” his master said, and Muggock creeped in the shadows towards where the two men stood. “An army is gathering, you see. What you see here is just the beginning.”  
      “Bullshit,” said the sharp tongued man, and Muggock crept closer.  
      “What do you mean, an army?” said the taller man and Muggock crept closer.  
      “None of you hunters will be safe soon. Not even the Winchester boys. When the monsters unite, nothing will stand between us and total annihilation of your race.” Master turned again, away from the fire, and the men followed his gaze. This put Muggock in the blind spot. Well done master! Muggock crept in for the kill.  
      “Why would you want to kill all the humans? What is the point to that? Don’t you need humans to survive?” Asked the taller hunter.  
      “No, we aren’t killing all the humans,” smirked master, “just all the hunters.” With a snarl Muggock lunged at the taller man and bit into his arm. The man howled and fell to the ground with a hard thump.  
      “No!” The other man snarled and pointed a revolver at Muggock but he was smart. Hide the head, live to see another day. Muggock ducked his head behind the tall man’s back just as a gunshot rung through the air and sharp pain consumed him from an area on his leg. Muggock howled. It wasn’t supposed to hurt! Why did this suddenly hurt? Muggock turned to see his master standing over him looking down with sadness in his eyes.  
      “Master…” Muggock burbled as a lick of flame crept up his throat. There was no trap. There was no glorious good to be done. Master fed all of them to the death flower just so a message could be given. The hunters will now be the hunted. And now they know. His tribe. All of the ghouls he had ever known, scattered or dead in the dust.  
      “Goodbye Muggock,” his master whispered, and then… lights out.

      Dean checked Sam’s arm but the ghoul didn’t seem to have bit him very deep. He wasn’t bleeding which was just as well. They didn’t want to send this vetala into a fit of blood lust without getting the full picture of what was going on. A massive army of monsters forming to take down all the hunters? It would explain why the ghouls were on the move and why so many had gathered here under the protection of a vetala. But why tell them all this? Why bring him here and have him hack away a few of this armies soldiers?  
      “So your Angel’s father then? The guy who runs this farm?” Dean asked, drawing his attention back to the monster. He waged that he was able to kill five ghouls before the vetala made his appearance and now another in a sneak attack. That left two more unaccounted for and Dean’s eyes tried to be everywhere at once. Sam was finding his footing and wrapped some cloth around his arm from his pack.  
      “She’s your hunting partner then?” Dean tried again in an effort to keep the creep talking, and the tall man nodded. Dean allowed himself a little shiver. The thought of him screwing a vetala…and if he hadn’t heard that angel’s voice in his head.  
      _Thanks, Cas_ , he thought to himself.  
      “I don’t get it,” Sam said looking around, “why lure us here just to warn us? Why the flimsy trap?” The vetala smiled and showed a row of sharp razor teeth.  
      “Ah that is a good question, Sam Winchester. Really, the only question that matters is it not? Well I will let you in on a little secret.” The tall man, concealed in part by the firelight beside him, leaned towards them and brought slender fingers to his lips.  
      “You are not here just to deliver a message,” he whispered in a voice like sandpaper, “You are here because it keeps you away from there.”  
      “What are you talking about? Spit it out asshole,” Dean spat, annoyed with how the monster was toying with them.  
      “Certain…intelligence has disclosed to us that you are in possession of a book. A valuable book that contains all sorts of information about all of our kind. I brought you here, so this book can be taken. As I am sure it already has.” Dean felt a chill run down his spine. What was this vampire-wannabe talking about?  
      “Dean, is he referring to Dad’s journal?” Sam asked, and Dean’s eyes grew wide. He had to be. And if he lured him out here because he wanted that…then where was his partner? Where was Angel?  
      “Cas!” Dean gasped and he could feel Sam’s eyes on him. The vetala smiled again and flashed his horrid teeth.  
      “A friend of yours, my guess? Angel spoke of him. She followed you last night, hunter. She knows your lair and already is working to retrieve the book. I am sorry for your friend if he tries to stop her. She will not let him live. ” Dean swallowed hard. He knew all too well that Cas would try to stop her. It was like he didn’t care that he was in danger as long as he was able to help Dean. The thought of that vetala ripping in to him in his current emotional state. Would he be able to block out the pain?  
      _Cas….Cas!_ Dean could feel the panic well up inside him. He could not lose the angel now. Not after everything that had happened.  
      “Dean…” Sam whispered and reached for his brother but already Dean was lifting the colt and pointing at the vetala. He fired without a second thought, but the monster was too quick and darted into the shadows of the night around them.  
      “This isn’t over,” they heard him call from off in the distance, “this is far from over, Winchesters! I am only a soldier in this army, but you wait and see! Wait and see!” He might have said more but Dean hardly was listening. He had already turned to make his way back to the car. Before he even cleared the farm, he broke into a run.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am planning on releasing the last two chapters this week and it will be the end of the first part. I have already finished writing the second and third part and will release them in the same fashion. I am already brainstorming part 4. I guess this story just keeps on going!

Chapter 8

 

      When Dean and Sam pulled into the motel parking lot, Sam noticed that the door to their room was hanging ajar.  
     “Oh god,” Dean breathed and Sam studied his brother. He had never seen Dean this close to panic. His brother was always the hard nut to crack. Even when Sam was in the worst of danger, Dean was able to play it cool and get him out alive. “I can’t go in there, Sammy.”  
     “Dean, you have to.”  
     “But what if he’s…”  
      “Dean,” Sam rested his hand over his brother’s “he’s an angel. He’ll be ok. You have to do this for him.” Dean turned to look at Sam and his large eyes were an open door to the raw torment he housed inside. Sam squeezed his brother’s hand once then reached for the door. “Let’s go.”  
      The two men went to the trunk and retrieved silver daggers from their weapons hoard. The colt would do in a pinch, but they needed back up in case the gun got knocked out of Dean’s hand. Quickly tucking the weapons away, they crossed the parking lot in quick order and peered into the dimly lit motel room. The place was utterly trashed. Food and papers and clothes were scattered all over the floor. The television had been knocked on its side and illuminated the room in static glow. Dean entered quickly and surveyed the area.  
     “Cas…Castiel!” He called sharply but there was no response. The room was empty. “Ok Dean, don’t panic…don’t panic.”  
    “Dean,” Sam called from the doorway and Dean flew to his brother’s side. Sam was kneeling at the entranceway and looked up at Dean with sad, sorry eyes as his brother approached.  
      “What? What is it?” Dean snapped. Sam seriously thought his brother was going to lose it.  
      “Dean….look,” Sam replied sadly and motioned toward a narrow trail of blood that led off of the stoup and out into the darkness. Dean stood there for a moment, almost looking like he was in disbelief, and then something left his eyes. It was like all reason had flown the coop. Before Sam could stop him, Dean broke into a run.  
      “Dean!” Sam called after the fading figure and then cursed under his breath. What the hell was wrong with his brother? Never has anyone affected him in this way. Not that Sam was jealous. No, he had about enough of Crazy Dean to last a lifetime. Moving to stand, Dean noticed the colt laying in the dust next to the motel door. Dean must have dropped it when he took off running after god knows what. Cursing again, Sam grabbed the gun and stuffed it into his pants by his hip. He was not as good a shot as Dean, but he expected this would be a close ranged fight. Taking a moment to close the motel room door so as to not attract attention, Sam turned and ran after his brother into the darkness; following the trail of blood.

      Castiel could feel blood on his temple. It was warm, when his face felt so cold. Below him the rest of his body burned like Hell’s fire. But the pain let him know that he was alive. How long had he been laying there? When had the fight begun?  
      He had been sitting in the motel room pondering whether or not to try on Dean’s pants again when the door flew open and this brown haired vetala strode in. Cas was caught off guard and before he had a chance to attack, she kicked at his knee and the bone cracked under his skin. After that, all Castiel could remember was pain.  
He had never known pain like this before. Even all the time he spent in heaven while they tortured him and branded him and cast him into exile, Castiel did not know this level of pain. But the fog was lifted now; the mask stripped away, and suddenly sensations were not so inviting anymore.  
      “Where is the book?” He heard the woman scream and she kicked him again. This time it was his ribs that cracked and Castiel wailed from the agony of it. The voice of reason in his mind that reminded him that he was an angel; that these broken bones could be mended time and time again by the will of his Grace, was swallowed into the oceans of pain he was feeling. Finding the way to make these wounds heal seemed so far removed from the hell he was enduring in that moment.  
      “Tell me!” The woman shouted as she wrenched his head up by his hair. Castiel was laying across the floor, not realizing he had fallen, and when she pulled at him, the pain overwhelmed him and he vomited over her shoes. She cursed at him and kicked him hard in his face which twisted his neck and left him lying limply on his back. He stared up at the ceiling as it swam in front of him.  
      “You disgust me. I never met an angel before, but really… I expected more of a fight. You’re pathetic.” Cas could feel teeth lose in his mouth as blood ran freely down his throat. He suspected she had broken his jaw. He watched as she shifted through belongings, and dumped his friend’s possessions all over the room. His body wanted him to vomit again, the pain was just so intense, but he fought back the sting of hysterics and focused his mind so he wouldn’t pass out. She was looking for a book. What book? Already she had thrown a few aside and Dean’s pack was empty. She turned to Sam’s and rummaged through his items as well. To her, Castiel was long since dismissed as not being a threat. Slowly, Cas found the will to correct his body. He righted his leg, his rib, his jaw, and as he did the pain subsided to a dull ache. He was able to think again, and all he could think was that he had to act.  
      “Ah…” said the vetala woman as she turned toward him. “Here it is.” Her fangs looked like sharks teeth in the moon light as she examined a small leather bound book in her hands. It was the journal of the Winchester boy’s father John. Dean and Sam often looked to that book for guidance. They needed that book as much as they needed to Colt revolver. As much as they needed him. Suddenly the vetala woman blinked and the book was gone. It was there, and then it wasn’t. She snarled and focused on Castiel.  
      “Where is it?’ She snapped and Castiel smiled at her as he rose to his feet.  
      “I hid it,” he said with an air of triumph.  
      “Where? Where is it?” Suddenly she was on him again, clawing into him with her nails and teeth. Castiel shoved her off of him but she only charged at him again desperate to find the book. Blood trickled from where she had marked him but he was able to ignore the pain.  
      “You will never get it no matter how hard you fight me,” Cas said, struggling to catch his breath, “I have hidden it in here.” And he pointed at his heart. The monster stared at him for a moment and he stared back at her. Then she was on him so quickly he had no time to react and her teeth sank deep into his shoulder. Castiel cried out once, then his body fell uselessly to the floor.  
      “I don’t have time for this,” snapped the woman, “I’ll dig it out of you if I have to but this ends here and now.” Castiel couldn’t move. Her bite seemed to have paralyzed him somehow. He watched helplessly as the vetala lifted him and slung him over her shoulder before retreating out into the night. In the distance he could hear the familiar purr of a late model engine.  
      “Dean,” he said with a groan, before even speech was taken from him with the venoms effects.  
      Now, what seemed like an eternity later, he laid limp while the monster woman cut into him with her claws and teeth. He could feel her inside him; digging around his body like a worm, and the pain was insurmountable. If he could have been able to scream, he would have howled until his throat was dry. She would never be able to find the book. He hid it deep inside his Grace- the most sacred place of protection. He tried to tell her that before, but she didn’t want to listen, and he couldn’t tell her that now. She seemed so desperate, he doubted she would have listened if he was able to tell her anyway.  
      Cas surprised himself with a soft groan and realized the paralysis must be wearing off. Would he be able to heal himself too? Would he be allowed the chance to rip this creature limb from limb for all the pain she had caused him? His mind seethed with revenge and he yearned to cut into her in ways he had not seen since his last visit in Hell. Castiel waited, trying not to give away his slow recovery, as the vetala tore at him again and again.  
      Off in the distance he could hear someone crashing through the trees and Cas suddenly felt cold. It was Dean. He knew it had to be Dean. But he was coming too quickly. He was going to get hurt! Cas strained to fight against the venom coursing through him but it was still unrelenting. The vetala did not hear him but she would soon, and what would she do? Would she tear into Dean in the same way? Make Cas watch so as to torment him? He would give her anything, including the book, just to keep her from hurting Dean. He could not bear to see the agony on the other man’s face. It was hard enough to see it when he pulled Dean out of hell. He never wanted his friend to hurt like that again.  
      “Castiel!” Dean shouted as he broke into the clearing brandishing a silver knife. He reached the vetala and it seemed as though he might plunge it into her but she turned at the last moment and smacked him away. Dean slammed into a tree and fell to the ground with the knife knocked out of his hand. Cas strained to go to his friend but he could only twitch the fingers of his right hand. He needed more time! The woman pulled her hands out of Cas’s body which was a great relief to him and allowed him the time he needed to correct his organs and heal his wounds. He was grateful that this much could be done in spite of his current state. With the worst of it mended, Cas turned his attention to his blood and examined the lengths of his endocrine system for the poison that resided there.  
      He worked fervently to cleanse his body as he watched the monster turn to Dean and lift him into the air with her bloody fist. Dean grunted as he fought for breath and the monster woman grinned up at him.  
      “Hello again, Dean,” said the vetala through the sharp teeth of her grin.  
      “Angel…when did you turn into such a royal bitch,” Dean spat back at her through gritted teeth. Angel. The name infuriated Castiel. He could detect the venom now, and used his fury to focus his body as he worked to push the vile creatures poison out of his vessel’s pores. Soon he would be able to stop this, if Dean could just hold on…  
      Sam slipped into the clearing and took in the scene. Much smarter than his brother it seemed; Cas would have to speak about that with Dean later. Sam’s eyes fell on Cas and grew wide. The angel could only imagine how he must look with all his blood decorating his clothing, but he lifted his arm and motioned towards Dean. Sam looked towards his brother, struggling to stay conscious, and pulled the gun to zero its sites on Angel. She turned towards him and smiled.  
      “Another hunter to play with,” she spat and tossed Dean towards his brother so that they both fell to the earth in a heap. Dean took in gasps of air and nodded at Sam to signal he was ok. “I am sick of this game, boys. I want the book that your angel friend is hiding and two hunter’s deaths mean very little to me now.” She moved closer to the two men and grabbed at both their throats with her hands. Her strength far surpassed that of the Winchesters, and she pinned them easily to the ground.  
      “I could rip out both of your throats right now,” said Angel through her jagged teeth, “The Cheiftess demands the book and I intend to deliver. Tell your angel to give it to me now, or I will decorate all of you in your own blood!” Angel’s mistake was turning her back on Castiel. She was so convinced he was in no way a threat, that she didn’t notice him ebb the poison of her bite out of his pores, or see him space shift to where the silver knife still rested. She did not sense him behind her in that moment while she taunted and choked his friends. That is until Cas plunged the silver knife deep into her back, and twisted it for good measure. She didn’t scream, which was a bit disappointing to him, but instead threw her body back as the poison of the silver overtook her and her skin tarnished to black.  
      Cas studied the pain he could see in the vetala’s eyes as the poison worked its way into her face and she took her last breath. He thought about all the pain she had caused him and the ways he thought of torturing her for it. Those feelings of revenge still burned hot in him, but he was easily able to keep them at bay. Cas dropped the knife and stepped away from the woman’s corpse without another glance. It was starting. The fog in his mind was beginning to return.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

      “Castiel!” Dean choked out as he struggled to find his footing. Damn that bitch was strong. He forgot how strong those things could be.  
      “Dean!” He heard the familiar voice say and Dean turned to see Cas standing before him covered in his own blood.  
      “Cas!” Dean exclaimed and ran to his friend’s side. Suddenly his hands were on Cas’s body; feeling his stomach; looking for wounds. “Did she hurt you? Did she hurt you?”  
      “Dean,” Cas said softly and placed both his hands, warm and gentle, over Deans. “I don’t have much time. I…need to speak with you. Alone.” Nervous trepidation threaten to grab Dean by the balls and he let out a sound akin to a baby calf. He glanced at Sam who also was finding his footing and, realizing his hands were still on Cas’s stomach, took aggressive step back from the angel.  
      “It’s ok,” Sam said as he rubbed at his throat, “I need to burn this body anyway. I’ll meet you back at the motel.” Dean and Sam looked at each other for a long time. How long had his brother known there was something going on? It didn’t matter.  
      “Ok,” Dean said gruffly and turned to Cas once more. “Where do you want to do this?” Cas lifted his fingers to Dean’s forehead and placed them there with a flash of light. A moment later, they were gone.

      Dean stepped away from Cas and looked around. They were in the middle of an open field that stretched far into the darkness of night.  
      “Is this where you like to go, Cas? Your meadow?”  
      “Yes Dean,” Cas said and Dean turned to see that he was in a fresh shirt and tie; his jacket draped over his arm. When did hell he have time to change and get all cleaned up?       “I like to come here and think.”  
      “Why?” Dean asked with a chuckle, “There is nothing here?” Castiel stepped closer to him.  
      “But you’re wrong,” he said softly and covered Dean’s eyes with his hands. Dean could feel Cas’s chest brush against his as he leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Listen to the sounds, Dean.”  
      “Cas…”  
      “Shh,” Cas whispered, “listen.” Dean closed his eyes and listened to the breeze of the crisp spring air. He listened to toads croaking in the distance, and crickets closer by chirping to the moonlight. Off in the night somewhere, a coyote yipped for his mate.  
      “Castiel,” Dean whispered.  
      “I came here, Dean,” Cas said softly, “and laid in the grass. I thought about you. Will you lay with me here now, Dean?” Cas pulled his hand away then and Dean opened his eyes. He felt nervous all of a sudden as he studied the intent blue of Castiel’s gaze. He could get lost a thousand times over in the depths of the other man’s eyes.  
      “Uh…yeah, sure,” Dean said trying to sound casual. He got down on the ground and settled in to a comfortable place in the grass. Soon, Castiel joined him. Dean could feel the warmth of the angel lying next to him and closed his eyes. He listened to the sounds of the meadow and thought about Cas the way the angel had thought about him.  
How many times had Dean fallen into bed with this woman or that woman? How many people did he encounter who tried so hard to reach him, but never did he feel it in his heart to do anything more than share his bed? He blamed his lifestyle; he blamed the hunt…but even Sam felt connections to the women he took to his bedroom. Hell, he was loyal to them to a fault which was why they had such a problem with Ruby.  
      So if Sam was like that, why not Dean? He never thought to place himself into a sexual identity; he was merely a man of opportunity, but he never took any notice to men before. It was always women that sparked his charm. Was that the way that his dad had shown him? Or was he the subject of his own creation; personified as the typical James Dean duster: rolling in and rolling on always like a rolling stone.  
      And why was Castiel so different? Why now does his heart race and his breath catch in his throat the way it had never done before? He knew there was something inside him for a long time. Something he fought to ignore because Cas was his friend and he didn’t want things to grow uneasy between them, but it was always Cas’s loyalty and acceptance of Dean that drew him back to the man. Dean liked how Cas would not back down from him the way Sam did, and the way he would do anything, even at risk of his own life, to keep Dean safe. So many times Dean had to be the protector and the one to go in with guns blazing, but with Cas he could kind of take a back seat every once and a while and let the angel take care of him.  
      Yeah, Dean had it bad. He knew he did. But it never was an issue until Cas came back under some sort of love spell and do his goo-goo eyes at Dean and made him feel like his heart was going to beat right out of his damn chest. Cupid or Eros or whatever his name was, got the whole shit pot stirred up on this one, and for what purpose? So that Dean could feel the pain of seeing the love fade in Castiel’s eyes? Why would anyone see a game in that?  
      “Dean,” Castiel said softly and his voice made the other man jump a little. They had been so quiet for so long, he had almost forgotten Cas was there. “Dean, I have to tell you something.”  
      “Cas, don’t,” Dean said and he could hear a tremor in his voice. He couldn’t hear this. Not now. Not when he knew it would all be gone again tomorrow.  
      “Dean, I am in love with you,” Cas said as he looked up into the night sky, “and I have always been in love with you.”  
      “Cas, stop,” Dean groaned.  
      “From the moment I pulled you from Hell, and you looked at me so desperate and scared…I have loved you without falter. I have watched you and tried to protect you, and I have given up everything on heaven and earth to be by your side. I give myself to you, Dean, my heart is yours completely. And…I just needed you to know.”  
      “Why? Why did you need me to know this?” Dean said without looking at his friend. He stared at the vast expanse of stars overhead as tears welled in his eyes and spills down the side of his face. “What is the point in all this when you are just going to go back to the way you were? You never can feel for me the way I want you to so why put me through all this?” Dean wiped at his face, angry at how stupid he sounded but feeling unable to stop. So quickly Cas was able to strip away his guard and lay him bare.  
      “Dean.” Castiel whispered as he turned and propped his body up with his arm. He reached out with one gentle finger and brushed a tear off of Dean’s face. “Look at me please.” Dean swallowed hard and stared at the sky a moment longer; searching for a way to stop his heart from breaking, before turning his gaze to the man next to him. Castiel’s eyes, once open like vast rivers he felt he could drown in, seemed just a little duller. Even in the deep richness of the moonlit night, Dean could tell they weren’t as blue as before.  
      “Dean, I will still love you long after Eros’s influence fades. It may not be in the same way…but I will never stop loving you. I tell you this now because…well we still have tonight.” Cas reached out and traced the lines of Dean’s face. “And I wanted you to understand that my heart is completely yours.”  
      “But it’s not really, is it?” Dean cried. For he was truly crying then. A big sack of blubbering horse shit. He grabbed at Castiel’s hand and pushed it away from his face, suddenly furious at the other man for bringing him there. “You serve heaven, and your father, and the whole merry bunch of them will always stand between you and me. Because you’re an angel, Cas. And I’m not.”  
      “Dean,” Castiel whispered again and his hands moved to wipe tears away from Dean’s face only for them to be replaced with fresh ones.  
      “Stop it,” Dean pleaded as Cas leaned over him. He squeezed shut his eyes, trying to escape the night. “Stop touching me!”  
      “Dean,” he heard Castiel whisper once more, closer now, and then suddenly the sensation of the man’s lips were upon his own. Dean refused to open his eyes. Part of him wanted to pretend none of this was happening and part of him wanted it not to end. After a moment of fighting he gave in to the other man and opened his mouth to receive him.  
      Their kiss was brief and felt eternal. The burning inside of Dean ignited into a blaze that he never in his life experienced before. He reached out and embraced Castiel, pulling him closer, and their kiss grew more desperate and needing. He knew their time was short; he could sense the other man’s emotions withdrawing already, but he couldn’t let go of the hope that somehow this could be the start of something more between them. Something he never knew he always wanted and something he was loathed to think he could never have. He pulled away and studied the little warmth left in Castiel’s eyes. He didn’t want to ever forget the way Cas’s eyes looked these past two day, and how that look made him feel. He could see tears shining in those eyes which were reflective of his own, and knew how deeply they hurt together for something they have both so desperately wanted for so long.  
      “Castiel…please. Please don’t go away again.”  
      “Dean…Dean…” Castiel’s hands moved along the ridges of Dean’s ribs; up his chest, and in an instant they were kissing again. Letting go of his fear and his pain and his longing, Dean gave in to the moment and the night. Tears never stopped falling from either man’s face as their hands explored the feel of the other’s body, and their mouths drank upon each other’s desire. Dean stopped noticing the tears as the world dissolved around them, and everything fell away. All was lost to him, until there was nothing left to know but Cas and Dean. Cas and Dean. Together.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers,  
> I wanted to take the time to thank you all for your wonderful comments and praise. I am glad you guys enjoyed it so far. I want you to kind of know where I am at right now with this story.  
> It was my original intent to write a 10 chapter Destiel fan fiction. I had no other intentions but that going into it. I did however want to keep it as close to cannon as possible and that meant having a villain and a story arc. About halfway through the story, it came clear to me that 10 chapters were not feasible so I started brain storming a second story arc in a second part. I play them like episodes, being that they continue the major story line but also have an episode story line that I try to wrap up by the end.  
> I had intentions, when starting the second part of the story, to write three parts and end it. I felt that 3 parts would make the book well rounded and I would be content with the finished product. I have a dozen other ideas I would like to fool around with, after all, and so I wanted to bring this to conclusion.  
> Halfway through the third part it became evident that would not be the case. This was a bit disappointing, because then I wasn’t sure where I was going with the whole thing and when the end would actually be in sight. I didn’t want to leave any questions unanswered though and as I wrote the story manifested into a massive hydra with multiple heads just waiting to be cut off so more could sprout. After taking some time off, I decided to just say “fuck it” and let the story play out.  
> The other component to this is that while this story originates as a Destiel love story, it evolves into so much more. I continue with the main love story plot but there is a lot of substories involving Sam and others (no spoilers here). Rest assured I have 35 chapters completed so you can be entertained for many weeks to come. However, if you do not want to have such an epic storyline to follow, I wanted to make you aware now that it might be good for you to stop reading now. I mean, the last chapter kind of wrapped things up pretty nicely. I would love for you to continue and stay with me on this magical carpet ride until the very end but at this point in time, I have no clue when that end will be.  
> I just love writing about these characters far too much to put them away. So please, keep providing your feedback and enjoy Eros’s Arrow!!
> 
> \--Sarah Jane

Chapter 10

 

      The sun was so warm on his skin. It felt like heaven, or the closest thing to it. The breeze was gentle and soft as it tickled along his bare chest. The ground, always cold beneath him, seemed a distant thought to the warmth surrounding him. Smiling, he reached out towards the man beside him; the man that he loved, and slowly realized that he was no longer there. Dean opened his eyes.

      Sam turned in his bed and let out a groan. The day after the hunt was always a sore one. He really didn’t know how he and his brother still remained in one piece, but by some stroke of luck, they weren’t six feet under yet. Sam sat up and tried to stretch out some of the kinks. He looked to the bed beside him and saw that it was still made from the night before. So that happened then.  
      Sam checked the time and noticed it was just a few minutes past 7 AM. Not sure what to do with himself, he decided upon getting dressed and checking out the internet for any information on their case. His mind raced, imagining what might have happened with his brother, but with an effort he pushed all the thoughts aside. His brother’s business was his own and Sam had work to do here.  
      He thought about the things Angel had said to them, and wondered who this Chieftess person could be. Sitting at the table, he checked the internet sites that were tailored to hunters to see if there was any word of sightings. He was mainly looking for areas where monsters were gathered together and laying low in uncommon groupings. Vampires and specters, or Banshees and changelings for example. He also took the time to email all the hunters he knew to alert them of the message that the vetala made sure to convey. Something big was coming, and they were all in a serious world of trouble if any of it was true.  
      “Hello Sam,” a flat voice suddenly said and Sam startled out of his seat so quickly he got tangled in his legs and tumbled onto the floor. Castiel stood before him, trench coat and all. Sam realized the angel hadn’t been wearing the thing and wondered why he suddenly started again.  
      “Cas…” Sam managed as he found his feet. Then he looked around, worried, “Where’s Dean?”  
      “Dean,” Castiel said as he lifted the curtain to look out the window. “I brought him back.”  
      “Brought him back…where?” Sam ventured. Cas seemed different, or more correctly, seemed very much the same as he always was. This did not bode well for Sam’s brother.  
      “He’s outside. Sitting in the automobile. I …don’t think he wants to see me right now.” Castiel turned then to face Sam, and he let the curtain fall. “I must leave you both for a while. I need to find Eros and make sure he understands what he has done. I will be here though, if you need me. Or…if Dean needs me. You just need to call. Here.” Cas held out his hands and suddenly father’s journal was laying in them. He handed it to Sam who took it eagerly and looked it over.  
      “Where was it?” Sam asked.  
      “I hid it,” Cas said simply.  
      “Yes, but where?” Sam studied the angel who seemed to be content focusing on his empty hands.  
      “I hid it inside my Grace. I could not think of a safer place for it to be.” Sam was touched by this, knowing that an angel’s Grace was as sacred to him as a soul, but also a little unsettled at the idea of Castiel somehow keistering his father’s book.  
      “Cas…what happened last night?” Sam asked. He didn’t want to pry but he didn’t like where any of this was heading and felt that he had to know.  
      “Something that shouldn’t have happened,” Castiel said matter-of-factly. “Something that won’t happen again. Goodbye, Sam” and with that, Castiel was gone. Sam swallowed hard and looked around the room. If Dean was already in the car, it was long past time to go. They had a lot of hunters to warn that weren’t on the grid. That would be a good place to start. Gathering all their things, Sam examined the room one last time, and then slipped out the door. He left the key in the door for the motel staff to find later. Just as Castiel said, Dean was sitting in the car parked outside. Sam threw their things in the back seat and then slid into the passenger seat beside him.  
Sam looked at his brother and his heart sank. Dean looked cold. His eyes faced straight ahead but his mind was miles away in thought. He looked cold, true, and his face looked hard, but his eyes seemed haunted. Lost.  
      “Dean…are you ok?” Sam asked and Dean glanced over at him.  
      “Yeah. Sure, completely fine,” he said with a shrug and went to start the ignition. Sam reached out and stopped him. He watched his brother until the other man turned to meet his gaze.  
      “What happened last night?” Sam asked, honest concern filling his words.  
      “Nothing,” Dean said with another shrug, “…everything… anyway it’s over now. Castiel is Castiel and you are you and I am me. Nothing more to talk about.”  
      “No,” Sam would not accept this as all there was, “there has to be another way.”  
      “What other way, Sam?” Dean suddenly snapped, and the anguish he was feeling threatened to spill onto his face. “The spell is broken. The game is over. Cupid had his fun but now it’s back to the way things were for all of us.”  
      “And Castiel?” Sam asked, “Did you talk to him?”  
      “No. I just woke up and he zapped me back here on Angel express,” Dean said bitterly and Sam hurt for the pain his brother was feeling.  
      “Maybe we can figure out a way. To get him back to the way he was before,” Sam offered but Dean already was shaking his head.  
      “You saw what happened to him. What that thing did to him. He couldn’t protect himself, Sam! I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to protect him. No…it’s better this way. I just need to accept that last night was a once and done thing. Time to move on Sammy boy,” and with that Dean turned the key in the ignition. His trusty classic roared to life. “Let’s hit the road, I’m starving.”

      “Castiel please,” Eros’s drew his hands into a symbol of prayer as he pleaded with his older brother, “it was all in fun. I didn’t know what would happen. I didn’t know any of that would occur.”  
      “Eros,” Castiel said flatly, “what you have done to me is a violation of at least twelve different Holy laws. And this is your second offence in the areas of emotional disturbance.” Castiel had thought about torturing the boy a bit, but he didn’t have it in him to damage a child vessel. They were so much more resilient and often survived the possession. No, it seemed that Eros very quickly realized that this was all a bad idea when Castiel kicked in his bedroom door and laid his Angel sword against the boy’s neck.  
      “Castiel…let’s not be too hasty here…”  
      “With the case against you, I think your punishment would certainly be banishment to hell where you can bathe in the pits of fire with Lucifer. You had already been warned after all”  
      “Castiel!” Eros shrieked at hearing this. The mischief draining from his eyes. “You can’t be serious! I was giving you a gift…”  
      “You were playing with my heart!” Castiel shouted. He pulled away from the boy and left him where he lay on his bed. Cas steadied his breath for a moment, fearful he would actually use the Angel sword after all, and went on. “For what you have done you should be stripped of your wings, banished to the depths, and cast out of the books as an angel no more.”  
      “Castiel please, I am only a boy-“  
      “However…”  
      “Yes?” Eros sat up in his bed looking eager.  
      “Eros… what happened between us will remain between us… if you help me.”  
      “Help you do what?” Eros asked, “Anything you want Castiel, name it and I will do it.” Castiel took another deep breath. It was all or nothing now. Thoughts of his night with Dean still flashed through his mind. The things that he said and the promises he made. He meant every word of it. He would give up everything for Dean. And now, he just might.  
      “Eros I want you to help me to remove the veil again,” Castiel said at last, “And this time, remove it for good.”


	11. Chapter 11

Part Two- The Coming of the Tide

Chapter 11

 

      “You have reached the voicemail of…” Dean ended the call and threw his phone out of frustration. Sam would pick it up. He’s been like a hawk these past three weeks; ready to swoop in the moment Dean had an emotional breakdown. Which he did once. Ok…twice. But it was only out of frustration.  
      “You alright, Dean,” his brother’s voice carried up the hill right on schedule. Dean shouldn’t be angry with the kid. He always appreciated Sammy’s softer side. But he was just so damn sick of saying it!  
      “Yeah…I’m fine.” Sam climbed up the hill to stand with his brother and they surveyed the crowd gathering below them. He chose an insignificant back road with a dusty parking lot. Nothing that would mean anything to anyone except for those who knew. This was where the Roadhouse once stood. There wasn’t much that remained of it now, but it was a reminder of what the enemy was capable of and right now, he needed these people to be reminded damn hard.  
      “Tell me again what he said,” Dean asked his brother, and then clenched his jaw hard. Cold. Ice. He needed to be hard. He couldn’t let any of these people see hurt or doubt on his face if he expected to lead them.  
      “Come on, Dean,” Sam whined, expecting him to give over, but Dean turned and glared daggers at his brother. Today of all days. Today of all days; he couldn’t answer his phone. Sam sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.  
      “He said that if we needed him we should call and…he would be here.” Dean let out a dry laugh. Yeah, some angel he was. He can’t even keep his word.  
      “Dean, you know he still cares,” Sam offered but Dean was already moving past him.  
      _Hell of a way for you to show it_ , Dean thought.  
      _Dean…Dean…_ he could still hear the angel whisper in his head. The way he did when his hands cradled Dean’s face and his lips warmed Dean’s own.  
      Dean closed his eyes. He would allow himself this one moment to reflect on his memories. The bitter sharp blade of pain, and the rejection he felt from the man he trusted to always be there for him. The regret he felt that he didn’t say more. That he didn’t try harder. He shouldn’t have run away all those times. He should have scooped him up the moment he walked into their motel with his Santa sack of burgers and hid him away somewhere. Alone. Well, alone with Dean. Christ, he needed to get over this.  
Dean opened his eyes once more and surveyed the crowd below him. Some were mingling a little with each other, but most of them stood generous distances apart from one another and merely stared up at Dean, waiting for an explanation to all this. Dean felt his nerves waiver a little. If the angel was here, he could lay support to Dean’s claim, and everything would go a lot more smoothly. Why couldn’t he just answer the damn phone? No. Cold. Ice. Dean stepped forward to receive them.

      Sam watched his brother account to the hunters everything they had learned. The situation was far worse than what either of them could have imagined. The vetala’s warning to them came far too late to matter. Which, Sam supposed, was the whole intent.  
      Dean accounted the results of their scouting that revealed Vampire nests far larger than any they had seen before, and a werewolf pack that one hunter/tracker told them could be upwards to fifty strong. Fifty! The comingling of monster types was just as bad. They found nests of dozens of monsters of different origins, some they had not even encountered before, and could do little about. The numbers were just too big. They were too risky; any assault would have been suicide. The only way they would be able to even stand a chance is if everyone united under one banner and started to counter strike. Dean hoped that banner would be his. Sam just hoped he would be able to convince them because he was quite sure any other hunter leading would probably get them killed.  
      Things would have been a lot easier years ago when they still had allies like Jo, and Ellen, and Bobby. Back then, they were formidable and respected. Lately, however, they were known to carry death with them and most hunters tried to avoid any long interactions with the Winchester boys. Things went from bad to worse when Castiel disappeared. Hell, Dean wouldn’t even say his name anymore. Their trio turned into a duo once more, and the hole Cas left felt like a gaping wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.  
      “This is impossible,” one of the hunters was saying and Sam moved to stand next to his brother. “There is no way a gorgon is going to pair up with a succubus. It’s just crazy!”  
      “Look around you!” Dean shouted, “Call your contacts! Read the news for Christ’s sake! This thing is happening and they already are picking us apart one by one. We wait much longer, there won’t be enough of us to stop it!” Sam wondered if they had enough to stop it anyway. Of the hundred and twenty five hunters that Sam knew of, only thirty five stood before them. Were the others too stupid to see the writing on the wall? Or were they dead already? He suspected a little of both.  
      “If this is true,” a red headed hunter chimed in; Sam remembered her to be Jackie, “and we do need to band together to fight this war you’re going on about, why is it that you are the one that calls all the shots?” And there was the rub. Sam tried to steady his breathing and keep his face calm. He knew that he had a tendency to…give things away with his expression. He did get lucky at poker once, but he really was a horrible bluff.  
      “Because,” Dean said flatly, “I have an angel.”  
      “An angel?!” Jackie barked and then spat on the ground between them. Oh yeah, and that was attractive. “You really expect us to believe that?”  
      “What angel, Winchester, I don’t see him.” Said another hunter.  
      “His name… his name is Castiel,” said Dean coldly, “and he will be here. When it matters. Look, the point is, he isn’t going to follow the direction of anyone else besides me and we need him to fight with us. He’s as good as a dozen hunters.” The hum of muffled conversation between the hunters rose up at hearing this. Friends and allies turned to one another to discuss Dean’s offer. Dean let them speak; his face was hard and unreadable.  
      _Castiel, where the hell are you?_ Sam thought. He didn’t think the angel would really just bail on them, and his prolonged absence had Sam seriously worried that something was wrong with him.  
      “Enough chit chat,” Dean barked and Sam winced. His brother could have been a little more tactful in his approach. “Will you stand with me or not?”  
The hunters looked up at Dean and then exchanged glances with each other. Jackie was the first to spin around and make her way back to her motorcycle. Figures she would be riding one of those. Some other hunters followed her path and tucked their heads as they moved away from the crowd.  
      “You’re all going to die out there alone and outnumbered!” Dean shouted after them, but at least twenty still remained. Twenty was better than none.  
      “Dean let me talk to the ones that stayed,” offered Sam. Dean waved all of them off as he trudged back to his car. How long has it been since Sam saw him smile? How cold has he really gotten inside? Sam watched him for a moment and then turned towards the people below.  
      “Hey,” he said casually as he walked into the crowd, and a few smiled at him. This was a good start. Little brother Sammy could be charming too.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

      They decided to remain at the Roadhouse and turned it into a makeshift camp. This was in case of late arrivals or if any defectors changed their mind. They brought in tents, and the one hunter even had a rundown camper which Dean titled “Command Central”. Another week past and while the camp grew in size, only a few more hunters showed up and even less stayed. Their total number was twenty three now. Twenty five if Dean counted Sam and himself. Would that be enough to take down a pack of fifty werewolves? Dean doubted it.  
      The other problem was how many people asked him where the angel was. He wished he hadn’t drawn that card but he really had little other reason for these estranged hunters to follow him. Plus he hoped the angel would stop taking his merry ol’ time and just show up already. The previous night, Dean even prayed for him to return. Little good that did.  
      Using some of the items that could be salvaged from the Roadhouse, they were able to construct a small hut for weapons and ammunition, and circled it with tents. Outside the tents, the hunters put their vehicles in a larger circle like a good old fashioned wagon circle. It would have to do.  
      Dean sat in Command Central and examined local maps. They sent out hunter scouts over the past few days to see if any nests might be nearby. They didn’t find any, which didn’t mean a whole lot, but Dean would have liked to have a small nest to set the hunters on at least. He wanted to see the weight and stock of each of his men and women before the real battle began, and target practice out back just was not cutting it. A light knock at the door, and then Sam was by his side. Dean was able to keep his head steady and cool having his brother around. He was glad it was just the two of them again.  
     “Dean, it is two hours until sunset. Should we send the scouts out again?” Dean nodded sullenly and Sam went to retrieve the two-way radios that they had stored on the shelf. He disappeared with six of them out the door, only to return moments later and stand next to Dean and the map. The small table was only big enough for two maps and the kerosene lamp that illuminated them. Sam carefully placed five different colored buttons over different areas surrounding their maps location. Each color represented a hunter. Pulling the last radio off of the shelf, Sam checked the batteries and then turned the radio to the shared frequency.  
      Together, the brother’s found a place to sit and waited. Soon, Donna came in. Another hunter that came late to the party, Dean appreciated her police background in this situation. It was her idea to do the nightly sweeps. After another few minutes the first call backs started to come through.  
      “Red zone clear.”  
      “Green zone clear.”  
      “Yellow zone clear.”  
      Dean reviewed the maps and saw how the areas calling in flanked the Roadhouse. Purple, blue, and brown still had to call in on the other side. The trio studied the two-way, waiting for the call in, but only static resounded.  
      “Something’s wrong,” said Dean.  
      “It’s too early to think that,” said Donna, “just wait.” Dean tried to wait but his gut told him something wasn’t right. It was taking too long. They should have been hoofing it back to camp by now. Dean clenched his jaw trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.  
      “No…” he said after another minute of silence, “something isn’t right!” Dean sprang to his feet and was out the door before either hunter could stop him. He checked to make sure his Colt was still snug at his waistline as he ran into the darkness after his friends. Hell, he didn’t even know who was on the scout tonight. Garth? Bridgette? It didn’t matter.       They couldn’t risk losing any numbers with so few there were left.

      Over this past week Dean could feel the way his mindset shifted. He wasn’t a hunter anymore, he was a soldier. The other hunters were his by right. This was a war they were fighting. It was also one they were at serious risk of losing. Coming closer to the flashing light, Dean could make out the shape of three two-way radios propped against each other and his heart sank. Their reprieve was over. The hunters have become the hunted.  
      A raw pain ripped into Dean’s side and he cried out as he fell to the earth. He managed to twist his body around to make out the shape of a skinwalker in his feral dog form. Dean leveled his gun and shot the creature, and it fell heavy to the earth at his feet.  
      Dean checked his side and saw three lovely claw marks ripped into his skin. Fucking great. Suddenly a chorus of howls erupted around him. Dean staggered to his feet, alarm flashing across his face. All around him in the darkness the earth rippled like maggots under cadaver skin. Dean spun and spun and saw the ripples from all sides. Even flanking him he could see small shapes dance across the firelight in front of the caravan. Some appeared to be skinwalkers, some did not. Dean tried to count, lost track, tried to count again. There had to be hundreds, hell even a thousand monsters out there.  
      This is it, Dean thought. The end of the road. Not just for him, but for all the hunters there. There was just too many of them to make a difference. How did they organize so quickly? How did they know where to find the hunters gathering there? It didn’t matter. Not anymore. His road was coming to an end. Already he could see the shadows circling closer and closer to him. Dean fired another shot into the darkness which he was sure gave purchase, but it made no difference. They were far too many to be afraid of the Colt now. Defeat overwhelmed him, and he fell to his knees.  
      “This is it, angel” he declared to the earth beneath him. “Goodbye, Castiel.”  
      The first creature decided to test his luck and a skinwalker leapt for Dean’s throat. Dean turned and fired into the creature, and the impact knocked it off its path and back into the throng. Another creature behind him, managed to edge his way in and slash at Dean’s back. Dean recoiled from the pain and curled in on himself wishing to disappear into the earth.  
      “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Sammy,” Dean whispered as hot tears and fresh blood decorated his face. The creatures continued to take cheap shots at him but it wouldn’t be long now.  
      “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when you decided to show up again Cas, you bastard.” A monster kicked him hard in his ribs and Dean curled tighter in on himself.  
      “Cas…Castiel…” Another one ripped into his thigh with its teeth. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, spilling fresh tears, and struggled to let go of the pain. Cold. Ice. It all melted away.  
      “…I love you.”  
      A sudden hurricane of sound erupted around him, and Dean was bathed in a searing light. He opened his mouth to scream but the light plunged down his throat and burned at his insides. The world dissolved around him and Dean felt his body crumble to dust. Just at the edge of consciousness, where the tornado of light tore at his limbs and invited levels of pain he had not felt since his 30 years in hell, Dean could see in the light the figure of a man. A man in a trench coat. And then he slipped from the edge of the world into unconsciousness and everything turned to a forgiving black.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

  
      Castiel watched as Sam paced in front of his brother. It took a lot of his energy to heal Dean, but the damage was necessary. He had to hurt Dean so that Castiel could save him. He also obliterated the mass of vile spawn that were swooping in to devour everything in the process.  
      “What the hell was that, Cas?” Sam said for the third time. Cas studied his friend for a moment. If it was anyone else he wouldn’t have answered. He disliked repeating himself. But this was Sam. Sam Winchester his friend, and Cas wanted to keep his friends.  
      “Angel fire,” he responded curtly.  
      “I have never seen Angel fire do anything like that!” Sam retorted and his pacing continued. Castiel was not ready to explain everything to Sam. He did not want to disclose where he had been; which was the first of many questions his friend had asked him. He also did not want to disclose how Angel fire was able to put a quarter mile wide crater into the country side. It was not the time. So he kept his silence and looked to his Father to aid him in understanding the finer points of patience.  
      “When is he going to wake up?” Sam asked looking down at Dean and Cas counted this to be the eighth time he asked that question.  
 _Dean…_  
      Cas looked at his friend resting on a cot on the other side of the small tented room. Cas had already studied the man’s soul and body closely for a long time and knew that he had healed Dean completely. He did not know why the other man slept as long as he did, but he assumed it had something to do with how badly he was injured, and the amount of healing it took to put him back together. Whatever the reason, Castiel was certain it would end on its own time when Dean was ready to come around. Letting his eyes trail back to Dean’s face, Cas studied the hunter’s slacken features. He had done this often as well for the past twelve hours while Dean slept.  
      Castiel explored his feelings, no longer raw and painful as they had once been, and decided that he felt as he had before for Dean. He was a friend who Cas cared about. He was someone Cas wanted to protect. And yet… there was that small darkness in the corner of his mind that had not been there before. A vast pinprick of emptiness that seemed to be getting larger. Dean made him feel…lonely. His Grace responded to the feeling and left him unsettled. He disliked all of it.  
      “Cas, are you even listening to me?” Cas’s eyes shifted back to Sam who was still pacing.  
      “Yes, Sam, I have more Angel fire.”  
      “How much more?” Sam asked and Castiel tugged at his coat pockets. Opening his hand, he showed four long vials lined up side by side. Three of them were a deep putrid green, while the fourth was a misty sort of blue. Sam came over to where Cas sat on the ground and examined the vials.  
      “Why does this one look different?” He asked, pointing at the blue vial. Cas picked up the vial and put it back into his pocket.  
      “That one is for Dean,” he said flatly.  
      “…ok…” Sam said after a moment. He sounded confused. Castiel didn’t know why considering he made it quite clear that vial was not his concern. “So, what do you do, throw them like a molitav?”  
      “No.”  
      “…ok…” Now Sam was starting to sound a bit annoyed. A rustle of sheets from behind alerted the men that Dean was beginning to stir.  
      “He’s waking up!” Sam exclaimed, relieved, “Cas, do you see? He’s going to be ok!” A growing dread rose up in Castiel’s throat and he space shifted away before Sam could even turn to face him again. There was so much yet to do. He knew Dean was angry with him but Castiel needed more time. He wasn’t avoiding the inevitable confrontation…nothing of the sort. He needed to find a way to keep both Dean and Sam alive and unhurt. He just wasn’t ready.

      Dean stood at the edge of a large crater in the earth and tried to guess on its depth. He glanced over his shoulder and estimated that the crater stopped just twenty feet shy of the outer ring of cars.  
      Cutting it pretty close there, angel, Dean thought. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it for a minute before slipping it back inside. He wasn’t going to call the guy. Not again. If Castiel wanted to avoid him…well he could just go fuck himself. After Dean came around and realized he wasn’t dead, Sam relayed to him what Cas had said about the Angel fire. The liquid in those vials did not sound like Holy oil, but he didn’t know why Cas would lie. Although there was definitely something that the angel was not telling either of them. And there was the whole going back on his promise thing.  
      Dean wished that the angel would just talk to him. Sure he was angry. Sure he couldn’t even think of the angels name without his gut wrenching and threatening bowel blockage. But when he found out what had happened and that he was healed, his first thought was the condition of Castiel’s Grace. He didn’t know how much his friend had left to spare but he was pretty sure piecing Dean back together took a hell of a lot of healing mojo. Did he spend himself on the effort? Dean picked up a rock and chucked it into the hole the Holy fire rent. It was high time that they moved on now that their location was discovered by the enemy force. That attack sent against them was not merely to capture the hunters or to perhaps retrieve the Winchester journal. No, it was sent with every intention to wipe the hunters all off of the face of the earth. Well one thing was certain; no one doubted him now about the monster army.  
      “Castiel,” Dean said aloud before he even knew he was saying it. “This is a whole lot of bullshit you are pulling right now.” He glanced up at the sky; so clear and blue, and could feel the ice growing again in the pit of his stomach. He hated loving. He hated hurting. It seemed like the two went hand in hand as far as the angel was concerned. Dean closed his eyes.  
      “Castiel,” he tried again, and waited. The rustling sweep of wind brought the smell of rotting leaves from the distant forest. Dean swallowed hard against a lump forming in his throat. “Cas, I need you,” he whispered, and a warm hand rested gently on his shoulder.  
      “Hey,” Sam said softly behind him and Dean felt his heart wither inside. “He’ll come back.”  
      “Right,” Dean opened his eyes and wiped at his nose. The stone cold resound covered him like a winter blanket. “You get everything packed?” With Sam’s nod, Dean started walking back to the camp. “Then we move out.”  
      “But where will we go?” Sam asked from behind him, taking long strides to catch up with his brother.  
      “The time for laying camp and finding recruits is past, Sammy. We hunt now until there is nothing left to hunt or no one left to hunt it.” Dean could hear the sound of his brother’s footsteps fall short behind him but he walked on. Let them all die. Let them all burn. He was past the point of caring. He was done with the supernatural.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

  
      They moved into the northern part of Oklahoma. Whispers of bloodless corpses turning up in the area could only mean one thing. Or maybe more than one, in Sam’s estimate, but they were really banking on vampires. Vampires were like super warriors. Sure they had their weaknesses, like the decapitation thing, and the holy water thing, but if you get a whole army of vampires together…well Sam didn’t want to think about what that meant.  
      Fortunately, word got around about what was now being called the “Attack on Roadhouse”, as it was pretty hard to hide a huge crater in the ground from the local media, and many hunters have found their way back to their group. Swelling to numbers greater than fifty, the hunters now liked to call themselves the Fist. Well Sam was fine with that and whatever it meant. As long as they could fight together when the time came. They were resting alongside the road and setting up another make-shift camp. There was very little in the way of accommodations in Oklahoma; not that any place could really house the lot of them anyway, but Sam thought it important to keep non-hunters out of this before they gained more notice.  
      Leaning over the map on the hood of their car, Sam tried to focus on the marks they laid for sightings reported, but his attention kept shifting back to Dean. Dean, who was sitting off in the distance staring at the sun creeping down the horizon, had turned in on himself. He hardly spoke any more, and while the Fist was still following him loyally, Sam saw the way they looked at each other sometimes when their questions go unanswered and Dean walks past without a glance. He can hear Dean sometimes calling out to Castiel in his sleep and the sound of his voice, so hurt and vulnerable, made Sam want to punch the angel’s teeth out. None of it made sense. Why was Castiel doing this to Dean?  
      “Don’t do this, Sam.”  
       Sam twisted and fell on the car, slamming hard against it with his hip, as he tried to turn to face the voice behind him. “Ca- Castiel!” He stuttered. He wondered if the angel somehow knew what he was just thinking. Castiel did look disheveled and kind of pissed off. Sam tried to edge away. Not because he was intimidated or anything, but he just thought he better keep his distance a bit. He knew Castiel was loyal to his brother but to Sam, he could sometimes be a bit of a dick.  
      “Don’t go after the vampire nest,” Castiel said flatly and Sam relaxed. A little bit. It had been almost two months since they last saw the angel. No word, no call, and even their prayers went unanswered for Sam sure as hell prayed. For his brother’s sanity he went on his knees and begged for Castiel’s return. Now, out of the blue here he stood. Sam glanced across the way at his brother. Already some of the hunters noticed Castiel’s arrival. They would be alerting Dean.  
      “It’s not my choice to make, Cas. I am not in charge here.”  
      “Then convince him,” said Castiel without saying Dean’s name. What was with these two? Sam was so damn sick of the way they kept circling around each other like wary dogs. Dean refusing to admit he was hurt; Cas refusing to even have a simple conversation. It was just getting ridiculous.  
      “Where have you been all this time?” Sam asked, guardedly.  
       “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you wanted me to be, Sam,” Castiel said. He sounded weary. “I have heard you calling. All the things you have said in your prayers. I hear your brother too. Know that I am always with you, Sam. I am just… not ready to come back yet.” That was it. Sam had enough of the crap. Patience thrown aside Sam lunged forward and shoved the angel hard in his chest.  
      “Now you listen and listen good,” he seethed. Sam shoved at him again but when Castiel did not stagger he grabbed the man by his coat and pulled him in close. “You are going to go over there, and you are going to talk to Dean,” he spat in Castiel’s face. The angel did not move and Sam tried to shake him in frustration. “Stop doing this to him! Can’t you see how it’s hurting him? Just talk to him!” Sam realized he was shouting, but couldn’t get control of himself. He dropped to his knees and fought to hold back tears.  
He has been so scared every day for the past two months. Dean wasn’t hardly talking to him, and the odds were stacked so high against them, he really thought this was the end of it. Dean just didn’t care anymore. Sam didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t know how to go on. He needed for this to stop. He needed to see his brother smile again.                   “Please,” Sam keened as tears spilled through his eyes squeezed shut. He let Castiel go and dropped his hands to the earth between them. He didn’t know what else to say to convince Cas to reconsider staying. A long silence stretched out before him and Sam was certain that the angel had vanished once more. But when he looked up, he saw that Castiel was still standing there; his eyes looking out past the expanse of Fist and cars, to where Dean stood, now looking back.  
      “Cas…” Sam began.  
      “Very well,” Cas said at last in resignation, and he turned away from Sam to walk towards his brother.

      _Act natural. Don’t panic. Don’t fucking panic._ Dean watched as Castiel worked to close the distance between them and then he quickly turned away. _Oh shit. Oh fuck._ His heart felt like he was running for his life. How many times had he imagined this happening? It was happening wasn’t it?  
      “Dean,” came a voice from behind him. Oh God, it was happening. Castiel’s voice like he heard in his mind so many times. Dean’s heart fluttered and he reached out for the cold. He grasped it, struggled with it, and embraced it. He was shrouded in winter once more.  
      “Where ya been?” Dean said dryly. Feeling the weight of his apathy turn his stomach into a knot.  
      “I…I have been watching you, Dean. Making sure you are safe.” Oh that’s fucking great. So he has been floating around them this whole time. “But what you are doing now is not safe. These vampires number too many for you, Dean.”  
      “Yeah. Right.” Dean grunted but refused to turn around. He was ice itself.  
      “I am sorry that I did not let my presence be known,” Castiel said flatly, “I have been thinking and…”  
      “Thinking?” Heat surged through the ice, and Dean spun to face his friend. “Thinking about what, Cas? Why you have been ignoring me?”  
      _Keep it cool, Dean._  
      “Why did you just dump me off outside a motel and then flap your little angel wings to some corner in the sky where you sat and let me stew for three god damned months?”  
      _Ice cold, Dean. Don’t let him in._  
      “Dean, I am sorry if I upset you,” Castiel said, taking a step forward, his face sad and tight at the eyes, “I assure you I was acting in your best interest.”  
      “Bullshit,” Dean spat, as he stepped into the gap between them as well, “your best interest was here with me. I needed you here with me.” He stabbed a finger at the ground to emphasize his meaning.  
      “Dean…” Castiel looked sincerely concerned. He also looked a little bit hurt. Dean felt his heart wrench but he pushed the feeling aside. Cold. Ice. Never again would he let his guard down like he did in that meadow.  
      “We are fighting for our lives here, Cas. You need to help us get through this. Not be off lounging in a cloud somewhere while hunters die and monsters grow larger in numbers. You need to be fighting, here, with… everyone else.” Cas was quiet for a moment, studying Dean’s sharp green eyes.  
      “I understand,” he said at last. The hurt on his face vanished as though it never had been there. “I will stay.” Dean turned away from the angel to not reveal any of the emotion he was feeling. Regret, hurt, unbearable sadness. He fought to push all of it away.  
      “Fan-fucking-tastic,” he said coolly, “See if Sam needs any help. We go against the vampires tomorrow.”  
      “Dean, this is a mistake. We are not ready.”  
      “Go, angel!” Dean roared, and listened as angel wings faded behind him.

      Sam leaned against a tree, trying not to get piss on his shoes as he urinated out of sight of the Fist. He heard Dean shouting and worried that this was not going to bode well for the rest of them. He had really hoped Cas would have gotten his brother out of this dark dismal cloud he has been carrying around him since who knows when.  
     “Sam you have to help me.”  
      Sam jerked and then swore as a bit of moisture trailed across his right shoe. That damn angel making him jump again. Why did he want Castiel back in their lives? The way he showed up unannounced all the time was unbelievably irritating.  
      “Cas…” Sam said through his teeth as he zipped up his fly.  
      “You cannot go after the vampires,” Cas pleaded.  
      “I already told you it isn’t up to me.”  
      “I know, but…” Cas looked past the hedge of trees to the cars parked beyond. “He won’t listen to me,” he said in a softer voice, “he’s too angry.” Sam couldn’t argue with the angel there.  
      “Look, Sam,” Cas again turning his attention to the younger brother, “I am trying to help you but I need more time. Last time I wasn’t ready and I nearly got all of you killed. Dean…I nearly got Dean killed.” Cas’s eyes trailed over again to where the Fist was gathered and Sam felt a tinge of pity for the angel. His emotions might be set to rights once more, but Sam could not forget that vulnerable man who wiped tears from his eyes at the thought of missing Dean and asked Sam to give him a hug.  
      “You can’t give up,” Sam said and rested a reassuring hand on Castiel’s arm. “He cares about you. He’s just hurting. He will come around.”  
      “Sometimes Sam, I think you are the best of all of us,” Castiel said flatly while never taking his eyes off the distant throng. Sam blinked in surprise at the compliment. He also felt a little better knowing that Castiel was trying to help them. He just wasn’t doing it the way Dean wanted him to. But that didn’t make him annoying or irritating….ok, he was still those things.  
      “I will talk to Dean,” Sam said, “I think I can convince him to stall the raid by the Fist.”  
      “Thank you,” Cas sighed, and his shoulders slumped in relief. “Dean wants me to remain and I will remain, but I must do something first. I will return as soon as I can. For Dean… and for you.”

 

       “Alright, Cas, I’ll try to talk to Dean a while.” Sam clapped Castiel’s shoulder and then turned to make his way back to the other hunters. Castiel watched him for a while, thinking about everything that transpired. As always, his thoughts turned back to Dean and how he said he needed Cas there to help him fight. He needed Cas. To fight.

      As the last rays of sunlight bled over the horizon, Cas pulled a vial out of his pocket and looked at in his hand. Misty blue smoke swirled and swayed within. It seemed to pulse in a hypnotic rhythm. Cas watched the color bend and shift, ebb and flow, then closed his fist around it, and rested it back in his coat pocket once more.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

      The fire swirled in a flurry of sparks as Dean poked at the coals with a stick. He was sitting next to Sam at one of many bonfires illuminating the caravan. He had listened to Sam for the good part of an hour before giving over to the idea of waiting another day to scout for a vampire nest. Sam brought up the Roadhouse scouting which was unfair to Dean and they both knew it, but he made his point and Dean realized that going out with a bunch of hunters at dusk to look for some vampire sign might not be the best idea. Dean reluctantly admitted that if Castiel was able to help them, it was worth the wait. After that was settled, Sam recounted everything Castiel had said. Word for word. Multiple times. For…consistencies sake. Knowing that Cas has been trying this whole time to help them burned a little spark of warmth inside Dean. He was still mad as hell though.

      "Dean," a small voice said cautiously and he looked up from the fire.

      "Hey, Kim, what's up?" The short hunter before him took on an expression of surprise and hesitation at Dean's response to her. She acted like she half expected him to ignore her for some reason. She glanced at Sam and then cleared her throat nervously.

      "Um…," she went on, suddenly at a loss for words, "I just wanted to know how long we would be staying here." Dean studied the girl, young for a hunter, with a maze of dusty curls turning to flame in the firelight, and broke out his best cynical smile.

      "Til a messenger of God brings his ass back here and gives us the ok to move," Dean said and nudged at Sammy's ribs. He turned and noticed Sam looked just as surprised as Kim did. Kim nodded, a quick jerk of the head, but Dean could tell she thought he was Looney Tunes. She spun on her heel and sprinted back to her friends. Well that was weird. Dean glanced at Sammy who was smiling at him.

     "What?" Dean asked and Sam shrugged.

      "It's nothing…it's just that…it's nice to see you smile again."

      Dean snorted at that. Ok, so maybe it was nice to hear that Cas was trying to help them, but he was in no way off the hook. He should have been there helping them and not playing his cat and mouse game. What irritated Dean more was that Cas had left after giving his word he would stay, and had yet to return. The angel was just breaking his promises left and right it seemed. Dean tried to hold on to his layer of cold; to bury himself in it and find solace in its numbing embrace, but no matter how hard he clung to it, he could feel it slowly melting away. Underneath, deep down inside; in Dean's most secret of places, he could feel the burning thrum of pleasure at seeing Castiel's face again. Well… fuck.

      A bit of ruckus off in the shadows and Dean was instantly to his feet. Was it trouble? Or was it…and just that sudden, Castiel was there. He made its way past members of the Fist who many had risen to their feet as well, and walked straight towards where Dean was sitting. Dean swallowed hard. Cas looked amazing. His face was stern and determined but his eyes also showed a hint of concern and trepidation. His jacket flapped behind him and billowed against the firelight. Dean could not seem to take his eyes off the man, and only when his lungs began to burn did he think to take in a breath.

     "Sam," Cas said as he reached them.

     "Welcome back Castiel," Sam said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably at it. The angel studied Sam for a moment and then his eyes shifted to Dean. He looked cautious and who could blame him. Dean's previous reception was not the most inviting, but who could blame him either? He was still so royally pissed off.

     "Dean…" Cas's voice was soft and nervous, and Dean closed his eyes against the swell of emotion inside his heart.

     "Cas we should probably take a walk," Dean said before he could talk himself out of it.

      "I …see," Cas had not been expecting that. "But there is something you need to know first." Dean opened his eyes and looked up at the angel, only noticing for the first time that he wasn't alone. Behind Cas, peeking around his shoulder, was a boy.

     "Dean, Sam… this is my younger brother… Eros." With that, the boy stepped around Cas and offered the brothers a wave. Dean threw his head back and roared with laughter. Oh this was great. This was so fucking great he just couldn't believe it.

      "Dean?" Cas said hesitantly, and then Dean was lunging through the empty space between them. He connected his shoulder with full force into Eros's midriff and knocked him to the ground with a hard thud. The angel boy grunted but Dean hardly noticed as he laid in the beast.

      "Dean!" Sam cried out. "Dean he's just a boy!"

      "The fuck he is," Dean growled as he hit Eos again and again. It felt like his fists were connecting with cement. This was the boy that caused him so much pain. The one that opened a door to something amazing and wonderful only to have it ripped away from him a breath later. If it wasn't for Eros he would not have to lay awake at night to avoid dreaming about the taste of Castiel's lips. He would not have to imagine how Cas looked undressed and aroused. He would not have to wonder what the hell was going on in his brain that he couldn't stop hurting every time he thought of the angel. No, Dean wanted this little bastard dead. He struck at Eros again and again until strong hands wrapped around him and Castiel pulled him off. "No!" Dean screamed. "I'll kill him! I'll fucking kill him!" It was a disappointment to see Eros's pointy little nose unscathed, but a stream of blood seeped from a split lip into the angels curly dark hair. This satisfied Dean immensely, and he tried to lunge at the angel boy again.

      "Dean…Dean…" Castiel pleaded and Dean stopped struggling against the angel's iron grip. To hear Castiel say his name in that way sounded very familiar to another night long ago.

      _Dean...Dean..._  

     "Why did you bring him here, Cas?" Dean said coolly. He stopped struggling, but Cas would not let him go.

     "He is here to help. He is an ally now." Dean watched as Eros found his feet and slowly rose before him. Blood continued to run from his lip and murder sparkled in his eyes.

      "Boy, Cas, you sure know how to pick 'em," he said dryly and he sneered at Dean.

      "Aren't you supposed to be a baby in a diaper with little white wings?" Dean said through a sneer of his own, and both man and boy squared off at each other.

      "Enough! Both of you!" Sam said as he moved to stand between them.

      "Sam," Cas said, still holding on to Dean, "can you please make sure Eros gets cleaned up? I need to take a walk with Dean." Without waiting for a response, Castiel pulled at Dean who put up a fight for the show of it. He didn't want this piece of shit boy angel to think Dean was Big Brother's whipping post. But eventually he turned because he did want to go. Cas had a hell of a lot to answer for.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

      When they made way past the flicking light of the fire and into the darkness beyond, Castiel let Dean go and Dean stepped away from the angel straightening his jacket.  
      “I would have gone on my own, Cas,” he said with mild irritation.  
      “I doubt it,” Castiel said simply. They were silent for a while then, picking their way over the rough terrain while Dean’s eyes adjusted to the moonlight. Ahead he saw an outcropping of large rocks and decided it was a good a place as any to park his ass. He led the way with Castiel a few steps behind him. Upon reaching its breadth, Dean climbed up to its summit looking for a place to sit. He settled on a large flat rock, stretching out the length of his body and nested his fingers behind his head. The sky above him was overcast and gloomy. It looked nothing like the sky that Dean and Castiel once laid beneath so long ago. When Castiel didn’t join him, Dean glanced down and saw the angel was standing at the edge of the rocks outcropping watching him.  
      “Are you coming up here?” Dean asked.  
      “Do you want me to?” Castiel cocked his head to the side, but gave away little of his thoughts with his expression. Well Dean certainly wasn’t going to beg. It was so much easier when he could tell what Castiel was feeling. When he could see the look in the other man’s eyes and know the longing that was just under the surface of it; wishing to be slaked. Yearning to not be ignored.  
      “We can do it your way then,” Dean said gruffly, “why did you bring that bastard into my camp?” The clouds slid over the mood then, and shrouded them in shadows.  
      “We need him, Dean.”  
      “Bullshit,” Dean spat, “after what he did to you…what he did to us…”  
      “Do you regret it then?” Dean sat up and looked at Castiel, confused.  
      “Come again?” He asked as his eyes peered into the shadowy place where the angel stood.  
      “Do you regret what Eros did to me?” Castiel said with a tinge of edge in his tone. Dean gave his head a shake in disbelief and laid down again to look at the sky. He didn’t want to answer Cas’s question but didn’t see another way around it. Cautiously, he opened himself up; just a crack, and let the angel peer through the door.  
      “I don’t regret what he did,” Dean said with a sigh, “how could I possible look back at the time we had together and regret. I just…don’t like that he hurt you.”  
      “He didn’t hurt me,” Castiel said from the shadows below him, “you did.” Dean recoiled as if slapped and the door inside him slammed shut. He sat up again and glared down at Castiel.  
      “How can you say that?” he said incredulously; his heart stinging from the blow. Castiel stepped towards him and Dean resisted the urge to lash out at the angel to reciprocate the hurt. It wouldn’t have the same effect anyway.  
      “Those two days I spent with my emotions and sensations unchecked, were some of the most amazing experiences I ever had. Except for you Dean.”  
      “Well, fuck you too,” Dean said coldly and scowled at Cas. The angel continued to hike the rock ledge towards where Dean sat. His movements were slow and calculated, but his eyes never wavered from Deans. As the moon cut away from the clouds, his face illuminated like a ghostly specter and Dean felt the familiar ache inside him to reach out and touch his friend. To hug him, to cup hands to his face, to kiss him long and slow and deep. The feeling wrestled violently against the hurt and despair; plummeting him over the edge to dismal rejection.  
      “Every time I saw you Dean, my body felt more alive than any other time in the thousands of years I have lived,” Castiel continued, “And you kept running away. The way I felt when you left me…the confusion, the terrible pain inside me, I do not want to feel like that again Dean. That was why I told Sam it was a mistake.” Dean closed his eyes as a cool chill covered his body. All his fault. Everything was always all his fault. Christ, but his chest hurt. Castiel reached Dean at last on the rock ledge and sat down beside him. They were silent for a while as Dean struggled to not give in to the urge to just give up on all of it. To just walk off into the sunset hi-ho-silver style, and to hell with the whole lot of them. Castiel waited silently.  
     “Castiel…Cas…I’m sorry,” Dean choked out. “I was going through a lot of shit myself, you know. You can’t just spring all this emotional crap on a man and expect him to ….”  
     “I understand that now, Dean. I …have been watching you. I see how you hurt. I have heard your prayers. I heard those darkest times when you were crying for me, begging me to come to you and-“  
     “Alright alright alright,” Dean cut the angel off. Damn but this was embarrassing. He laid back down in a huff and tried to concentrate on the sky instead of the way Cas stared at him.  
      “My point is,” Castiel went on, “I understand now that when I went away you hurt too. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to feel the way that you did. I wanted to feel that way again too. And so I found Eros.” Castiel laid down next to Dean and pulled a small vial out of his pocket that he held up for both of them to see. “And Eros made me this.”  
Hope fluttered along the edges of trepidation in Dean. He hated how crazy his emotions got when he was around Castiel, and though it seemed as though the angel was not so moved as Dean anymore, he obviously still gave the situation a lot of thought. Studying the contents of the bottle, Dean’s eyes followed the swirl of the liquid as though it moved like smoke. A tiny blue storm, locked away with all its secrets.

     “What is that, Cas?” whispered Dean, feeling suddenly breathless.

      “A way to remove the veil,” Cas whispered back, as he rolled the vial between his fingers. “I can go back to who I was Dean. To the man in the meadow that you kissed and let touch you in your barest of places.”  
      “Cas, enough of that, it’s embarrassing.”  
      “Eros is not so much a magician. His angel magic is not like earth magic. Eros is ...a chemist. He makes spells into potions. This one he made especially for me.”  
      “And the Angel fire?”  
      “Also his design. Far more potent than anything we could construct on earth. We have not mastered the design though Dean,” Cas turned to look at Dean and the intensity of the angel’s gaze scrambled Dean’s emotional cesspool again; pulling him in and hypnotizing him with longing. “It's too volatile. Too uncontrollable in its raw form and needs a filter. The Angel fire we unleashed at Roadhouse was far too potent. I almost…I thought I wouldn’t be able to bring you back.”  
      “How did you bring me back, Cas? Your Grace…”  
      “For another time Dean,” Castiel said turning away again. With the spell between them broken, Dean shook his head to clear it. “But for now, I want you to tell me if I should open this. I want to know if I should drink it.”  
      “Whoa, whoa,” Dean sprang to his feet and took a few steps away from the angel, “what are you saying, Cas?”  
      “I already told you Dean,” Castiel said, the edge returning to his voice, “it would lift the fog. I would feel again like I did before. I can be the way you want me to be.”  
      “Yeah, that sounds great,” Dean said with a hint of sarcasm, “two more days of hamburgers and clothing raids before you go back to being who you really are again?”  
      “This is different Dean,” Castiel said flatly.  
      “How is it different?” Dean was just about done with the angel’s attitude.  
      “Because Eros believes that this time, the change will be permanent.” Castiel sat up and tucked the vial into his jacket once more. His eyes threatened to bore into Dean with their intensity. “I can be the way you want me to be, Dean. Eternally.” Dean stared at him for a long time. He thought about Castiel’s lips and then his breath, warm on Dean’s face when he leaned over to kiss him. He thought about what followed. The feverish touching of hands to bodies and hearts to minds. He thought about the deep rich blue of Castiel’s eyes when he looked up at Dean with such raw adoration. The way he cried. His body in the shower. His smile in the sun. Then Dean thought about how a lowly vetala reduced Cas to a something out of a horror movie. He thought about the pain Cas must have endured. His vulnerability. His fear.  
      “Are you sure this is safe? Have you even tested this stuff on anybody else? How do you know you aren’t going to blow up the second you drink it?” He didn’t want Cas risking his life for this.  
      “Eros is a very good chemist.” Cas continued to study him with those deep unreadable eyes.  
      “I think we need to think about this…” Dean could feel the anxiety rising in his gut like a stale burrito. This would change Cas for the rest of his life. Far longer than Dean ever walks the earth, Castiel would be changed. And if something would happen to Dean, Castiel would be left with nothing but his own misery laid bare and stinging like a bad sunburn. The thought was heartbreaking. They held each other’s gaze, blue meeting with green, as they frantically tried to find a better understanding of the other.  
      “Very well,” Castiel said flatly and got to his feet. He turned and started to make his way off of the outcropping, leaving Dean to catch up or be left behind.  
      “Wait…where are you going?” Dean called after him. Trying desperately to cling to the moment they shared alone together a little longer.  
      “Back to the camp. I must speak to you and Sam both about why Eros is here. I think we have a way for you to win this war." This definitely got Deans attention, but he just wasn't finished with Cas. He raced to catch up to the angel who was doggedly trudging off of the rocks in a pretty dangerous pace with how dark it was.  
      "Wait ....Cas, wait!" Dean called out and Cas stopped at the bottom of the outcropping with his back to Dean. Dean tried to rush to reach him but he practically was tiptoeing through the boulders to avoid a twisted ankle. Yeah, smart move going up there. He managed to reach the angel, and Castiel turned; meeting Dean's eyes.  
      "What is it, Dean?" He asked. Dean's mouth felt dry. He was no damn good at this stuff.  
      "Uh...See it’s just... well I..." Dean closed his eyes and breathed. "Cas... I really missed you. I don't really understand why you had to stay away so long but it doesn't matter anymore, I'm just glad you're here now. But... do you always have to be so cold? I'm trying to not be angry and not be hurt. Can you try to care?" Dean could feel the sting at the corner of his eyes but opened them and willed his tears away. Castiel's face showed glimpses of concern and confusion, which made Dean feel a little better to see. A moment later, the angel sighed and bowed his head.  
      "I'm sorry Dean," he said at last, "what do you want me to do differently?"  
      "Well..." Dean scratched at his head, embarrassed, "I mean, a hug would be nice." Castiel hesitated but then took a step towards Dean. He extended out his arms offering an embrace and Dean stepped into them. The angel cradled him there in the still shadows of the night. He was warm and firm and protective in a new way when he pulled Dean towards him. The moment seemed so genuine, Dean longing so intense, that he was compelled to go a step further. He lifted his head and softly brushed his lips against Castiel’s. The angel watched his every movement as a curious spectator would, but offered no reciprocation. It made Dean feel like he was kissing a stone.


	17. Chapter 17

          Sam got all of the hunters together in the camp as Eros had requested, and the young angel stood before them, back lit against the firelight. Dean and Castiel had not returned from their walk which Sam suspected was a good thing. Hopefully they were talking it out and wouldn't be foaming at the mouth when they got back. Sam had about as much as he could take of that crap.  
          Eros quietly moved up and down the length of hunters sitting in front of him on the ground. He seemed to be taking weight and stock of them, and Sam could only imagine what his intentions were. Sam studied the angel, a young boy with eyes centuries old, and it reminded him of Lilith. Lilith, the demon that drove him to the brink in his desperation to stop her from taking his brother from him. The last thing he wanted to do was trudge all that up again when he never really forgave himself for the mistakes he made through all of it.   
          "You!" Eros suddenly declared and pointed into the crowd. "Come out here where I can see you." Sam looked down the long row and saw Donna cautiously stepping into the clearing. Eros had his hands upon her before anyone could even think to intervene. He examined her arms; pinching at the muscles of her slender build, studied the contours of her hands and, placing fingers on her forehead, looked deep into her eyes. This looked a lot like angel mind tricks to Sam.  
          "Hey!" He shouted down at them, trying to stop the invasion.  
          "Quiet," Eros said flatly and Sam felt compelled to comply. He forgot what it was like being around an angel. Not that Castiel wasn't an angel, but Cas never manipulated them like other angels did. Sam trusted him as a friend. "Sit," Eros said to Donna as he released her from his touch, and Donna silently walked to where he pointed without question. She sat on a patch of the earth closer to the fire and away from the others. Eros, not giving her a second glance, turned and continued his searching.  
After a few minutes, Eros pointed into the crowd again and Shane moved into the clearing. Sam had about enough of this. He got to his feet and approached Eros from behind.  
          "Hey!" Sam tried again, "what are you doing? Why are you selecting hunters?" Eros glanced over his shoulder but didn’t bother to meet Sam’s eye.  
          "I said quiet!" His voice was pointedly sharper, and Sam froze in his stride. His mouth was unwilling to open, and his legs, halfway through a step, refused to move. Sam watched helpless as Eros did the same examination with Shane and again with Kim. Three hunters sat away from the others, and unable to move, Sam's left calf was forming a cramp.  
          Back and forth Eros paced in front of the crowd but seemed to not be finding what he was looking for. Back and forth, back and forth.  
          "One more...just one more," Sam could hear him say.  
          "Eros!" Bellowed Castiel’s voice and Sam's eyes sought out the angel standing beside his brother. "What is the meaning of this?"  
          "I'm doing what you told me to, brother. I'm doing this your way like you insisted." Eros’s irritation bled into his words but Sam felt it was trivial. No matter what he said, the glint in the angel’s eyes made it clear how much he was loving all of this.  
          "That is not what I meant," Castiel said sharply and walked over to where Sam still stood. "What is the meaning of this Eros? Release him!" Sam felt the will to be able to shift positions again, and stretched out his stiff legs. He glanced at Cas, a silent thanks, and then moved a hand to work at his jaw just as he turned to face Eros. Their eyes met, and Eros gasped.  
          "Yes!" He hissed, and glided towards Sam. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" He reached out for Sam, forcing him with his angel magic to not recoil, and when hands met with skin, Sam's life flashed before him like an old time film reel. All the struggles, the fights, his betrayal, his brother’s betrayal. The blood, the pain, and the lives. The countless lives he took and the many more he saved, flashed in a never ending torrent in front of his eyes until Sam was screaming wordlessly from the assault. A vague part of him registered Castiel connecting his fist against Eros's jaw, and the film reel cut short when the boy stumbled then fell.  
          "Not him!" Castiel shouted furiously down at his brother. "Find someone else!" Warm hands covered Sam, and Dean was suddenly at his side helping him up. Sam hadn’t even realized he had fallen.  
          "Sammy are you ok? Are you ok?" His voice was breathless and urgent. Sam just nodded. He didn’t trust his voice to work properly at the moment. While only seconds transpired, what the angel did had rubbed Sam raw emotionally. His body shook from the effort of standing.  
          "Castiel please! I was only trying-" Eros defensively raised his hands against Castiel standing over him and the area seemed to hum with Castiel’s fury.  
          "You will not influence him like that again," the older angel screamed at his brother. "You will Touch no one in this camp ever again. Am I clear?"  
          "Perfectly!” Eros squeaked and Sam couldn't blame him. Castiel was quite terrifying when he was angry.  
          "Isn't he amazing?" Dean whispered next to Sam, and apparently Sam felt well enough to roll his eyes. It sounded like those two were doing better. He was sincerely glad.  
          "Find a different hunter," Cas commanded, "you cannot have Sam."  
          "Castiel... you don't understand. You don't know what he is."  
          "Find another!" He shouted again.  
          "He's a Marksman, Castiel! We need him. You need him!" Eros's words seemed to echo among them and Castiel stepped back from the boy, shaking his head.  
          "No...no, not Sam..." feeling the advantage tipping in his favor, Eros sprung to his feet and jabbed a finger toward where Sam stood.  
          "That hunter is going to win this war Castiel, and if you insist in taking part in it, you will allow me to train him!" Castiel stood unmoving for a long time with his head down and his shoulders slumped. The silence stretched on as he turned to face the Winchester's and a chill went through Sam at the pure sorrow that painted the angels face. His eyes met with Deans and the two men seemed lost to the rest of the world.  
          "Cas?" Dean said weakly and Castiel closed his eyes.  
          "Eros…you will ask Sam. Do not Touch him, but you must ask him. Tell him the truth of it. And if he agrees…only if he agrees…he's yours." With that, Cas turned and strode into the night.

          The hunters dispersed. The night was creeping far into early morning and most of the hunters desperately wanted their beds. Most of the excitement was over after all, all that remained was Eros and his four. Dean hovered in the distance drinking from a six-pack but Sam wasn’t sure if it was because of wanting to know what Eros was about, or if he was waiting for Cas to return.  
          “Listen to me carefully, for I have been forbidden to invoke you, and I really wish to only say this once.” Eros said flatly as he stared at Sam. They sat upon the earth in a circle near the dying fire and Eros stood over them, domineering. He peered down his nose at the lot of them, studying each one in turn, and enjoying the theatrics of it. Then suddenly a long wrap of leather cloth was resting in his hands. He smiled at the reactions from his audience at his parlor trick.  
          “This is older than any bloodline you have spawned from” Eros said slyly, “…at least with the exception of one,” he added with a whisper. He pulled an object from the cloth, “and until this is done, you will never let it leave your side.” Holding his object up for the fading fire light to catch it, Eros revealed to them a slim band of iron, worked intricately into a perfect arc.  
          “What is that?” Donna asked breathlessly.  
          “It looks like…a bow,” ventured Kim, “like archers use.”  
          “Yeah right, kid,” scoffed Shane while he scratched at his beard, “if it’s a bow then where are the arrows? Where is the string to knock the arrows in?”  
          “Ah but that is the true question, is it not?” Eros said with a smile. “And yes, little one, this is a bow. A very special bow called a Recurve. And you lucky humans, are the only ones here able to use them. You are the Chosen.” Three more parcels appeared at Eros’s feet and he placed one in front of each of the hunters. While the other hunters lifted and examined their bows, Sam kept his eyes on the angel.  
          “Wow, it’s heavy,” Kim said as she hefted the bow in front of her. Donna traced delicate fingers over the length of her bow and smiled fondly down at it. Shane merely took it into his hand and returned his attention to Eros without another thought. Sam glanced down at the parcel laid out on the ground before him.  
          “Little humans,” Eros went on as he squatted on haunches to meet their eyes, “I have measured each of you and know you have the ability to channel my arrows. The bow is just a fulcrum, you see. You are the strongest among you to tap into the fulcrum void and make it sing.” Eros rose once more, and strode over to where Sam sat. He unwrapped and picked up the bow he placed there for Sam, and examined it himself. This bow seemed a little different from the others. A little more intricate.           “Of course I also added a little seasoning to keep things interesting. A little something special for you especially.” Eros said in a low haunted voice. Anticipation and hunger glittered in his eyes.  
          “I don’t know about the rest of you,” Shane said, “but I don’t know a thing about using a bow so I hope whatever you put in it is strong enough to make up for that." Eros turned and smiled at the other hunter.  
          “I am talking about Angel fire,” Eros said and the hunger in his eyes intensified, “I have been working to strengthen it; perfecting it. Anointing the bows in the holy oil of Angel fire blesses them with the ability to wrought. And wrought they will. You don't need to know how to use a bow, just your mind.” Eros turned to look at Sam. “If Father’s will be good, the carnage will be immeasurable.” Sam felt increasingly uneasy. He looked beyond the fire to where Dean stood by his car. Did he hear any of what was being said?  
          “The…the explosion at Roadhouse…” Donna said softly. Perhaps she too was feeling Sam’s growing dread.  
          “That was a bit of an experiment,” Eros said to her with a smile, “sometimes my magic is a bit too potent it seems. An anointed pebble; dropped from the sky.” Sam gasped. A pebble left a crater that big in the earth? This was unsafe. Beyond unsafe. He looked down to see his hands shaking. “But things are different now,” Eros continued waving his hands, trying to reassure them. “I have fine-tuned the oil so that the explosion is much smaller and has much more impact. Your arrows, with some practice, will destroy anything in its path. But only that one thing.”  
          Eros kneeled in front of Kim then and brushed a slender finger down the length of her cheek. “It will be as though they never existed.” She smiled up at him lovingly, and Sam's stomach clenched.  
          “If this is all true,” Sam said at last and the angel turned to him with a smile, “Then why did Castiel not want you to choose me? What are you not telling us?” Eros’s smile did not waiver on his face but his eyes grew a bit harder and his gaze looked more like a glare.  
          “A long time ago, I invented a thing called love. But when I decided to unleash it into the world, I didn’t use humans as my soldiers. Beg your pardon but…I didn’t think you humans had the intelligence to channel such a potent fulcrum. I still don’t, but desperate times as they say... Castiel wants you to decide on your own without my influence Samuel, so I will tell you the truth of it. Last time these Recurves were used, it was angels using them. My little brothers and sisters were unleashed on the world and caused all sorts of mayhem. It was beautiful, and highly entertaining!” Eros said with a chuckle. He returned to Sam and instead of standing over him, he turned and sat down next to him.  
          “I had a little sister named Abigail,” he continued softly. His face seemed almost somber at the recollection. “She was a Marksman like you. Such an amazing little girl and still just a toddler! She was…admirable.” Eros cleared his throat that had grown husky in the recollection. Sam was surprised to see that this angel seemed to have a little heart after all. Lilith’s smile flashed through his mind again.  
          “She went insane, Samuel,” Eros said. “The act of dispelling an arrow that is channeled through you, you see. Through her grace, through your soul… and…well… there is only so much the mind can take. It took twenty years until Abigail was reduced to the mind of a baby. She never recovered. I can only guess how long it will take you.” Sam studied the angel for a moment and then his eyes sought out Dean in the distance. Dean could not hear them, Sam was certain of that, which was just as well. Dean who would do anything to keep his brother and friends alive.  
          “Why am I different? You keep calling me this…Marksman. I have to tell you, I am a horrible marksman. Dean can tell you! I mean I’m great with a shot gun but you hardly have to aim to use one of those…”  
          “Enough with the chatter,” Eros snapped as he clutched at his head. “Listen to me, Samuel. You are a Marksman. This makes you capable of so much more than the others. You are able to tap into more than the others ever could dream. You will learn much more quickly as well. You will see what all of this means when you accept my offer. You will accept my offer, won’t you Samuel?” Sam stared at Eros for a moment and then his eyes wandered over to where the rest of the hunters sat. They all were looking at him with an eager anticipation.  
          “What about them…” he said motioning towards the other three, “Don’t they have a choice to make too?” Eros let out a heavy sigh.  
          “Do I have to spell everything out for you? Their choice has already been made for them. I saw to that with my Grace. You are the only one that matters now. You are the only one with a choice to make. But chose wisely, Samuel, because without you, the casualties will be...significant." Sam swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. His eyes remained on Dean, standing off in the distance waiting for an angel of his own to return. The thought that all of them could be dead without him made Sam appreciate just a little bit the burden his brother puts on himself every day of his life.  
          “Alright,” said Sam, reaching for the bow. Kim was right, the thing was heavy. “I’ll do it.”


	18. Chapter 18

           
          Dean lounged under the shade of a scrub tree and watched the hunters practice against the rock outcropping he and Cas explored the night before. It was muggy, and Dean had long since thrown his jacket in the car without it yet reaching mid-day. He felt like crap, he slept like crap, his breath tasted like crap, and a somewhere a shower was screaming for him to fill it.  
          A flash of light drew Dean’s attention and he watched Donna attempt to draw her bow or whatever the hell it was, and the thing flared up in her face. This was Castiel’s big plan? Looking around, he noticed Sam still had not joined the others and wondered what the hell that meant. No matter, the angels were running the show now. He just wanted to get a shower before the big finally started.  
          “Dean,” Castiel said flatly and Dean jerked a little in surprise. The angel was sitting next to him, seemingly oblivious to the heat with his jacket and trench coat and whatever the hell else he wore all layered on him.  
          “Hello Cas,” Dean said and offered the angel a tight smile, “things are looking good for the big angel plan you got set up here?”  
          “I found the nest, Dean,” Cas said, and Dean turned to him, surprised.  
          “Oh yeah?”  
          “Dean,” Castiel turned and their eyes met, “there are ninety three vampires currently residing in this nest. They have nearly killed everyone in the town closest to here to feed their lot and I fear they are turning just as many to their numbers.” Dean felt as though an ice pick was lodged in his balls. Ninety three vampires? And growing?  
          “We’re gonna die,” Dean said breathlessly.  
          “Dean…”  
          “No, Cas. This is it! There is no fucking way we are going to get out of this alive.”  
          “Dean,” Cas reached out and placed a hand over one of Deans. “We are going to survive this.”  
          “How can you be so sure?” Dean asked, his hand turning and lacing Castiel’s fingers through his own.  
          “Because,” Cas said with a sigh, “Sam said yes.”

 

          His eyes were closed, but he could sense the world around him. Eros circling him, the wind whispering through his hair, a dog barking miles away. The Recurve, as Eros named it, felt a part of his hand. He did not remember his life before the Recurve now.  
          “You have heightened your senses, look how quickly you learn,” Eros crooned in his ear, “Now… find a target.” Sam sent out tendrils of thought. He didn’t know how he did it but it just seemed to come to him naturally. As soon as the Recurve connected with his hand, he knew everything that he needed to do to use it. Eros was just walking him through a practice run. About half a mile away, Sam could sense a squirrel scavenging in a neighboring woods.  
          “Got it,” he said coldly. His mind was fathoms away.  
          “Good, now look inside yourself for the Angel fire flame.” Sam searched inside his inner void for his core and found a tight coiled ball of fire churning within there. Softly, he let spirit fingers brush its smooth molten surface.  
          “Got it,” Sam whispered, a little awestruck.  
          “Now…”Eros whispered into his ear, “take the shot.” Sam lifted the Recurve in his hand and pointed it out before him. Then, to help channel his thoughts, he knocked an unseen arrow in a string that wasn’t there, and pulled back until the string was taught. Without opening his eyes, Sam found the squirrel’s life essence and fired. An instant later, the life was extinguished as though it had never been there. Sam opened his eyes and the world swayed a little in his vision. Inside him, he felt a pang of emptiness that tightened his chest.  
          “Very good!” Eros said delighted, “You are an amazing Marksman. You will be ready when the time comes, come help me get the others prepped. The poor fools can’t even knock an arrow.”  
          “Eros,” Sam said, worried, “Why do I feel like my pet dog just died?”  
          “Ah.” Eros turned and looked to where the other chosen hunters practiced far in the distance. “That is the burden you bear to channel through your soul, Samuel. But this shouldn’t be anything new to you should it? I have seen your story. I have searched your life. How many demons did you eject from hosts when you fevered on their blood? Your soul is so tarnished from the way you have used it, this tax upon it should be like snuggling up with an old friend.” He turned back to Sam with a smile. “Is it really so bad, having a dog die, Samuel, with all that you have done?” Sam glared at the angel, but could not argue with his words. “Come along,” Eros said in a sing-song voice, “we have a band of hunters to save.”

          Eros worked with the chosen hunters over the next two days to help them get better at their skills. Slowly, steadily, even the youngest, Kim, was able to progress and learn how to use her bow. Sam also practiced his craft, trying to fire larger or smaller arrows, and multiple arrows from his mind. Everything came so naturally to him he hardly understood why the others struggled.  
          Each day they practiced, more humans died which Eros noticed drove Dean crazy with frustration. Not only this, but the vampire numbers had swelled to one hundred and three. They were running out of time. Discovering that the vampires had laid the town of Rexpoint to waste, the hunters agreed to travel there for supplies and much needed reprieve before the main event.  
          Eros, Castiel, and the human brothers agreed that the Chosen were as ready as they would ever be and that the Fist was armed enough to flank a small army. They would go to the cave in the morning, the entrance to an enormous nest of vampires within, and lay waste to the militant party. This was, in Castiel’s words, the tossing of the gauntlet for them all. Eros couldn’t help but admire his brother for how dedicated he was to these humans. And this was the true beginning of the war. With a plan in place and all hunters poised to follow Dean’s lead, they took the night to, in Dean’s words, get lit and cause some trouble. Eros couldn’t agree more. It was past time for a party.

          “The fire is burning, Dean, and the dancing has begun. You are missing all of it,” Castiel called from downstairs and Dean nodded urgently.  
          “Yeah, I know, I know just…give me a minute.” He searched the drawers of a dead man’s house to try to find a decent shirt since all his were gross beyond a passable sniff test, and settled on a nice white t-shirt. It would have to do cause he would be damned if he missed out on the most fun he’s had in months. Maybe he’ll even get lucky… this gave Dean pause.  
          He couldn’t even recall what any of the ladies in their Fist looked like. Old Dean would have rated them on scales of do-ability and acquiescence by now, but new Dean seems so focused on chasing after an emotionally constipated angel that he’s forgotten to take notice to the finer qualities of life.  
Shaking his head, he thrust his arms into the t-shirt and made his way downstairs. At the entrance to the outside, and where the night fire lay beyond inviting him to enjoy a shit load of beer, stood Cas looking up at him and Dean felt warmed to see him. He was okay with how Cas was, as long as he was in Dean’s life. Let him be as cold natured as he wanted to be, Dean knew he cared in his own way and didn’t expect more than the friendship they had. Dean made peace with that over the past two days, and planned on telling Cas not to risk taking the potion that Eros had given him. It just wasn’t worth the risk or what it might do to Cas. Right after this battle was over, Dean planned on sitting Cas down and talking through the whole thing with him.  
          “Castiel,” Dean said with a smile and softly patted the angel’s scruffy cheek, “let’s go get a beer. How many do you think it will take to get you drunk ‘cause we got a beer store full and all night to find out.”  
          “Dean,” Castiel said gently in a way that made Dean ache for more from him, but he pushed the feelings down. Then stomped on them. “Dean, someone is here to see you.” Castiel’s eyes lifted and Dean followed his gaze to where a small figure was hidden by the shadows of the living room.  
          “Oh.” Dean said feeling very awkward.  
          “I will wait for you outside,” said the angel behind him and slipped out the door. Dean moved into the living room, and noted the firelight from outside cast enough light for him to realize it was Kim, one of the Chosen hunters, sitting on the couch. Her head was down and her hands balled into fists which squeezed tighter at his approach.  
          “Hey, Kim,” Dean said gently, “what’s going on?”  
          “Dean,” came the girl’s small voice and not for the first time Dean wondered how she had come to be who she was. She traveled with another hunter but he was not her family. Dean didn’t know what happened to her family or how she even got involved with hunting in the first place, but she reminded him a lot of himself. She was only thirteen, and a lot of her haunted expressions and withdrawn social graces could probably be attributed to the things she has seen and done. Dean could definitely relate.  
          “Why did you want to talk to me?” Dean asked and Kim seemed to grow smaller.  
          “I…I’m scared Dean. I am not brave enough for this.” Dean opened his mouth and then closed it again. He couldn’t blame her for how she was feeling. Castiel told him the way the Recurve can destroy the soul over time, and Dean hoped that they will never have to use the damn things again after tomorrow. What was worse was that Kim wasn’t even given a choice. Eros apparently used some mojo on her that made her agree without question. It made Dean feel violated. He hated that little shit all the more for it.  
          “Look,” Dean said after a while, “I am just as scared as you are. But being here tonight, you are the bravest kid I know. Tomorrow it will be over for a while and you can go back to being a normal kid again. Just…stay back. As far back as you can. You’ll be ok.” He looked down at Kim but she didn’t seem to be so convinced. “Come on.” He said and she looked up at him then.  
          “What?” she asked shyly.  
          “Look, I can’t make you feel better. You are never going to be not scared. All we can do is make the most of the night and try our best to forget about it. Tomorrow, you will do what you need to do. I know you are brave enough to do it. Let’s just have fun tonight. Come on, Kimmy, let’s go dance.”

          Castiel walked with Dean to the fire and found a vacant space next to Sam. He noticed that Sam’s Recurve was resting next to him, glittering in the moonlight, but Castiel tried not to worry about it. Not yet. Although he has not seen Sam without it since he got it from Eros. Settling down, he turned his attention to Dean.  
          Dean, his friend that makes him feel that Gods purpose is justified, was dancing with a child hunter. They danced for a while together and Cas was glad to see the girl smiling. Good. He had sensed her soul quivering and vulnerable in the living room of the vacant house, and knew she would be the first to break under the will of the Recurve. It did not matter. Sam was what was important because he was what mattered to Dean.  
          “Are you ready for tomorrow, Cas?” Sam asked and Cas glanced over at the hunter. He seemed in good spirits. In fact, Sam seemed more jovial than Cas has seen him for a long time. He could not imagine what that meant.  
          “I will do my part, Sam. We must find the head of the nest and get what information when can about the plans of the monsters. Dean and I will be with you when we can, but it has to be you to lead the charge. You will be protecting us for a change.”  
          “Yeah.” Sam chuckled, “I guess so.”  
          “Are _you_ ready for this, Sam?” Cas asked with an edge of worry and Sam nodded casually. Of course he was. Turning his attention back to Dean, Cas noticed that other hunters had joined him and they hooked arms to form a line. The whole lot of them were kicking and staggering in some haphazard attempt to dance to the music blaring around them. Kim continued to dance with him as well; smiling broadly up at him the whole time and not paying attention to her footing. Castiel watched as her leg caught with his and they twisted around each other. The other hunters, still hooked arm to arm, staggered as well and soon the whole lot of them spilled out onto the ground. Castiel was to his feet in an instant.  
          “Dean!” He cried out, but then noticed that Sam was laughing raucously on the ground next to him. He examined Sam and then his eyes returned to Dean to see that the hunters out there were laughing at him as well. Dean, not so bemused was finding his footing and waiving off help.  
          “Why are you laughing?” Castiel turned on Sam in irritation. “He could have been hurt!” Sam looked at him bewildered.  
          “Oh come on, Cas. That was funny. You have to lighten up a bit, man.” Castiel looked around him at the hunters laughing at Dean or ignoring the whole incident while they conversed with each other. No one seemed to care that Dean could have fallen into the fire. Or got a concussion. Or twisted his ankle. Or countless other things. “It’s ok Cas,” Sam called up to him reassuringly, “angels just don’t get a human’s sense of humor.”  
          Slowly, Castiel returned to his place next to Sam and continued to watch the hunters at play. His eyes darted from face to face watching them laugh, or act surprised at something another one said, or hug and look at each other with adoration, or cry. He watched Dean smile reluctantly at his friends and accept a beer for condolence. He watched Sam smiling at the crowd as well, thoughtlessly stroking the smooth edge of his Recurve bow.  
          _“Angels just don’t get a human’s sense of humor.”_  
          Castiel remained silent for the rest of the night.


	19. Chapter 19

          The plan was set. Dean and Cas would lead the Fist in to infiltrate the nest and eliminate as many vampires as they could, while Eros would lead the Chosen with Sam into the heart of the nest to eliminate the head vampire. With all these cronies that vamp is probably one ugly mean son of a bitch, but Dean was confident Sam would pull it off. He saw what his brother could do with that strange angel bow and it was downright scary. Not that forest animals could be compared to vampires, but he got the gist of it.  
          As the sun edged over the horizon, the band of hunters left Rexpoint to venture deeper into a neighboring forest. Cas led the way and Dean was right by his side which just felt right to him. He could think of no other save Sam that he would rather battle alongside.  
          They hiked for a little over an hour through tall oaks and dense hickory, and the whole lot of them were beginning to notice the thickening heat of another scorching day. Nothing like sweating up a storm before taking down some vampires. Dean had not brought the Colt for this hunt because of the enclosed spaces in the cave. Any gunfire would be deafening in the cave, and could potentially ricochet and hurt an ally. Instead, Dean fashioned a harness with wooden stakes that he slung across his back, and had two machetes one on each hip. Many others brought more, but Dean was always an opportunist, working with his environment, and he wanted to remain agile. The only other thing he brought was a flashlight. Miles into the wilderness, they reached a plateau that faced a crag of rocks.  
          "We're here," Castiel said softly, and Dean made practiced movements with his hands to alert the Fist to fall in around him. At the rear of the party, Sam and his three followed Eros in a different direction. Not for the first time Dean wondered if Eros could really be trusted, but Castiel insisted that he was on their side so Dean tried to let it be. There were too many people for him to worry about. He was used to it only being Sam and Cas. The added burden was exhausting.  
Dean instructed his Fist to check weapons and tighten straps. He wanted no noise as they made their way into the cave, and was hoping they could go undetected for a little while at least. With everything in order, Dean made his way over to Sam and the two brothers faced each other. He hadn't seen much of Sam the past few days and he missed his younger brother’s constant companionship.  
          "So... here we are,” Sam said sheepishly and Dean nodded.  
          "You take care of yourself in there, ok?" Dean offered and Sam nodded as well. Dean reached out to his brother and the two shared a hug that conveyed so much of what neither of them were able to say. Then they moved apart and Dean motioned for his hunters to fall out.  
          Cas led them to a narrow entranceway only big enough to fit one at a time through and Dean eyed it warily.  
          "Cas..."  
          "It gets bigger on the other side," Cas assured him, "but beyond that, I don't know." Sam was the first to enter, Recurve stretched out before him, followed by the small group of Chosen. Dean noticed young Kim with such determination on her face and he smiled. The rest of them waited until a signal was sent, a small rock thrown through the opening, to know the coast was clear and they could go inside.  
          Cas’s saying it got bigger on the inside was an understatement. The cavern stretched beyond sight, plunging into darkness beyond, and appeared entirely vacant. The cool damp chill of the cave was an amazing relief from the muggy day outside and Dean sighed in appreciation. Collecting themselves, they wordlessly formed ranks and dim flashlights went on. Sam and Eros took the lead followed by the Chosen and the rest of them. As the cave went on, it narrowed and appeared to take on a more structured appearance. It seemed as though much of it was man made, or maybe vampire made, which would indicate to Dean that a very old vampire has nested here for a very long time. It didn't seem rational for such an old vampire to get involved in petty squabbles against hunters if it could potentially place him in harm’s way. Something wasn't quite right about this.  
          The hallway seemed to end in an archway and beyond that rested rows of occupied beds. Dean suspected there was at least 50 occupied beds in this room and started to seriously wonder what the fuck he was doing there. He made hand talk to hold the other hunters at bay as Dean edged up to where Sam stood.  
“We should go nice and slow, the place might be booby trapped," Dean whispered barely above silence and Sam nodded. They edged into the room and Dean drew out his machete to start beheading him some vamps, when suddenly an alarm sounded engulfing the room in noise.  
          "Witchcraft!" Castiel shouted behind them and Dean cursed himself for not thinking of this sooner. All the monsters of the world were uniting so of course the vampires would be in cahoots with a witch. He didn't have time to think much more on the matter though as all the vampires seemed to be leaping out of their beds at a full run. They had expected an attack. Probably a witches doing as well, Dean assumed.  
          "Fist! Fall into position! Delta, alpha, divide and conquer, omega flank them!" All the hunters moved at once like a well-oiled machine. Dean hadn't spent all his time pining over Cas. His dad had taught him a few things about war tactics and Dean rehearsed strategies with his crew. The plan was to have the Fist infiltrate the initial wave allowing the Chosen to slip through them and move on to deeper quarters but very quickly Dean could tell something was wrong. He staked a young vampire who appeared newly turned and she just smiled at him. She pulled the stake out of her chest and buried it into an adjacent hunters shoulder. The man screamed as he fell and two vampires fell with him to lap in his blood like vultures.  
          "Holy shit!" Dean exclaimed, his eyes still locked with the vampire girls. Feeling the advantage, her smile broadened into razor edge teeth and she lunged for him. Dean stepped to the side and lopped her head cleanly off with a machete. He watched her for a moment to make sure she was in fact dead, and to his great relief she was.  
          "Dean!" Suddenly Cas was there clinging to his arm. Blood seeped from the angel’s temple and Dean resisted the urge to tend to him. No time for that now. "The vampires have been warded. The witch who did this is very strong."  
          "Black Sabbath!" Dean shouted which was the Fist code for headshots. He looked around to see if his order had registered and was dismayed to see how many of the Fist had already fallen. Sam and the Chosen were only halfway through the throng, fighting without bows to fend off any errant assaults the Fist couldn't keep at bay.  
          Dean lunged forward, Cas at his side. He took out a vampire with a solid stroke of his one machete, and when the other machete lodged halfway into a second vampire’s neck, Cas tore the head away cleanly to free the blade. Other hunters turned to beheading as well but still the number of vampires were overwhelming. More poured in from entrances on the side until the cave room filled with the coppery scent of blood. It was dark too, making it a struggle to see anything with little pockets of flashlight illumination. Dean took down another three vampires before it became apparent that the vampires would overtake them in a matter of minutes.  
          "Sam!" Dean cried out desperately and his brother looked over to him from across the room. "Sam help us! Please!"  
          Suddenly something blunt swung into the side of Dean’s head, and his legs gave out beneath him. Struggling to stay conscious, another blow to his head turned the world on a tilt and everything spun away into blackness.

 

          Sam watched as two vampires beat down his brother and then drop in for the kill, and all thoughts of strategy and plan escaped him.  
          "No!" He heard himself say but already his mind was entering the void that allowed him to sense the vampires around him, and he raised the Recurve to the direction of his brother. He could feel the two vampires, sense their unique thought patterns, and knew they were about to sink sharp fangs into Deans flesh. Sam released two of Eros’s arrows into them and the room erupted in a flash of light. The other vampires recoiled, momentarily stunned, but Sam allowed them no chance to counter strike. He drew in the sense of every creature in the room the way one draws in a breath of air. Very quickly he was able to differentiate the living and the undead. Then he turned in towards the source, the beacon of light brought into clarity with the Angel fire."  
          "Sam!" He distantly heard Eros call to him, "don’t!"  
          Closing his eyes, Sam pulled back on his bow, and released his arrows.

 

          The first thing Dean noticed when his vision swam back into clarity was how quiet the word had become. He struggled to sit up but his legs responded like yesterday's spaghetti left out in the pot overnight. Then Castiel swam into view and Dean smiled up at him.  
Hey, babe, he thought.  
          "Dean!" Castiel called out to him. His face was pale and stricken. Clarity quickly rushed back to Dean’s awareness and he reached for Cas to help him to his feet.  
          "What's going on? What happened?"  
          "It's Sam," Cas said breathlessly, and Dean broke into a run the moment those words left the angel’s mouth. The room was littered with wounded and fallen hunters, but it appeared more were standing than not, and all of them gathered around the center of the cavern. Dean burst through them, roughly pushing his friends aside, and dropped to his brother’s side.  
          Dean had never seen Sam look like this. His brother was sitting with his knees to his chest and clutching his legs. His whole body shook and his breath came in short rapid spurts. His eyes were wide and stricken in a face so pale Dean thought maybe a vampire had reached him.  
          "What happened?" He said weakly, and when no response came his eyes sought out Eros. "What happened?" He repeated in a shout.  
          "I warned him of the risks, Dean. He took too many at once. Your brother Sam incinerated thirty eight vampires in the blink of an eye. He is tapping into things I didn’t think possible." Dean stared at Eros amazed and then his eyes fell back on Sam.  
          "Cas," he whispered, "can you heal him?"  
          "Yes, Dean. But it will take all the Grace in me to do so. I will burn out"  
          "I don't understand, you healed me back at Roadhouse."  
          "That was different.”  
          "How is that different?" Dean shouted at his friend and Cas recoiled a little. Dean hardly noticed as he watched Sam's vacant expression desperately.  
          "Maybe, he could just take the edge off," Eros offered, "Not enough to heal him, but enough to get him moving again"  
          "Would that work?" Dean asked turning to Cas.  
          "Dean...Sam's soul is in shreds. I can repair what little I'm able to do, but without an angel's true healing Grace, he will eventually be consumed from the loss." Dean didn't even want to know what that meant. He would worry about that later. He would find a way. He motioned for Cas to step in and the angel laid tender hands on his little brother. Sam cried out once, a terrified bitter sound, then slumped over and vomited bile across the cavern floor. Dean rushed to help him up, but noticed that Sam already seemed to be recovering.  
          "What happened?” He asked weakly and Dean helped him to his feet.  
          "You did, you idiot. Don't pull a stunt like that again, you hear me?"  
          "Really it was a remarkable thing to see," Dean heard Eros saying to Cas. "I never seen a Marksman dispel so many arrows at once before. Did you see the light? Do you think he was using-"  
          "Castiel!" Dean turned to face the two angels, "go with Sam. Make sure he makes it to the master vampire. We are ending this."  
          "Dean...no..." Castiel said urgently and closed the space between them. "I don't want to leave you."   
          "Do you lead or follow me, Cas," Dean asked, trying to sound firm.  
          "...I follow you, Dean. Always."  
          "Then follow me now. I am ordering you to go with Sam. Keep him alive." The two men's eyes met, green with blue, for an eternity of time. Dean tried not to let it show how much it hurt to see the look on Castiel’s face. Finally the angel turned without word and went to Sam's side. Eros led them down the center path, toward where the master vampire surely dwelled. The small group fell into the darkness of the cave until Dean could only see the shadowy glow of Castiel’s coat. The angel turned to look at him one more time, and then he was gone as well. Dean only could hope that he would see them both again.


	20. Chapter 20

          Sam knew something was wrong with his body but he just couldn't understand what it was. It seemed like he had this sense of impending doom that wasn't there before and he didn't know what to make of it.  
          Eros kept glancing over him with an expression almost akin to fascination, and Castiel strode on his other side, very openly sulking. Behind him, his three Chosen kept his pace. He held a firm grip on his Recurve; an iron anchor in his ocean of inner turmoil, but made no effort to raise it. He could sense wandering vampires long before his companions, but the others were able to eliminate them before they got very close. Sam regretted not doing this with just his group. He felt the Fist were little help here, but that even these magically warded vampires succumbed willingly to the scorching redemption of Eros's Angel fire.  
          He could sense the Fist distantly behind him as he descended further into the caves depths. There were a few vampires lurking among them but nothing Dean couldn't handle. Just some lowlings late for the party. A nudge at his shoulder and Sam turned to see that Shane was offering him a flashlight. The area around them had gotten so dark, the dim beams provided little ground coverage. Sam shook his head at Shane and closed his eyes. He didn't need to see when he had the void to guide his way. Gripping his bow tighter, Sam fell deep into the mental abyss.

 

          Dean spent the better part of the hour searching all the twists and turns of the upper tunnels before satisfying himself that all the vampires were dead. All that remained were the ones ahead of them, where Sam had gone, and the master himself. Dean swallowed down his anxiety and clenched his stomach to hold it there. Sam, Castiel...both were in danger and this thing was far too big for him to do anything about it.  
          Many of the hunters were wounded so Dean made the command to fall back to camp. Only he would remain, with two of his most seasoned hunters, to wait for Sam's return. The others gathered up the wounded as well as the dead and removed them from the cave. Later, they would burn those who didn't make it on pyres as his father had shown him.  
          With a final word from Dean to stay on guard, the last of the hunters slipped away leaving them in eerie silence.

 

          "Go," Sam said sternly. He rested a thumb to his cheek and pulled it away red.  
          "I'm sorry, Sam, I'm so so sorry," Kim said weakly as she wrung her hands. A vampire had lunged at Sam by his right flank, and Sam expecting Kim to retaliate, was surprised that the creature was able to rake a claw down his cheek. Kim had frozen and couldn't take the shot. He could not; would not see her getting hurt because of this. He had no choice but to send her back.  
          "I need you with Dean," Sam said as an excuse to spare the girl further humiliation. "Because his angel is here with me. Go protect Dean for me, Kim. Please." This seemed to lighten the girl’s spirit a little and she vehemently agreed to watch over Dean until Castiel's return. She turned back to the tunnel they came from and trotted into the darkness; flashlight bobbing in front of her. Sam sensed no vampires were left behind them, and only a few handfuls remained ahead.  
          "It won't be long now," Eros said, his eyes drunk from excitement. Sam glanced at his bow. It would be easy to destroy all of them right where he stood, but he was warned against the dangers of killing so many so fast. Already feeling as though the world was going to end, he might just lose his mind in the process. Sam considered it anyway.  
          "Alright," he said at last, "let's end this."

 

          Another hour passed and Dean was growing increasingly anxious. Just how deep do these caves go?  
          _Please be safe, Cas,_ he offered up in a prayer. Then looked at his two hunters. Oddly, the one appeared to be slumped over and half asleep. What the hell?  
          "Hey! Billy! What's wrong with you? We are in the middle of a hunt and here you are sleeping."  
          "I'm sorry, Dean," Billy said weakly, and the tone in this voice put Dean on red alert. Annie and he both went to Billy's side and examined his neck. Nothing marked him there so they looked over his extremities. Dean checked hands and feet, arms and legs, and then on the boys ribs, he saw a fine scratch of red charred black with poison. Dean swore under his breath. Fucking witches.  
          "Get him out of here," Dean said gruffly to Annie, "see if one of the other hunters in town knows a thing or two about poison. Without that, I don’t think he will survive the night"  
          "What about you?" Annie asked reaching for Dean.  
          "I'll be ok. Just get back to town. Sam has this under control.” He hoped he sounded a lot more convincing than he felt. Annie hesitated a moment longer, then turned to tend to Billy. She helped him to his feet and minutes later they were gone. Alright. That was about enough of this horse shit. Time for Dean to work in the way he knows best. Alone. Picking through the remains of combat, Dean recovered some sturdy machetes to add to the ones he already owned. He put them in his back sling and made his way toward the cavern extending out in the middle of the room.  
          Suddenly, the ground growled below like an eruption was about to occur and Dean stumbled off the path towards the corner of the cave. He tried to gain his footing again but the ground roiled beneath him and large rocks rained down from above. Urgently, Dean found a place where the cave wall bulged, and managed to shimmy underneath it. He curled into a ball against the wall and covered his head in a feeble attempt to protect his noggin from any more potential brain injuries. The world around him erupted in a shower of falling rock and Dean winced.   
          As soon as it begun, it started to subside. The ground settled below him, but the damage was already done. Dean was able to avoid any impact of falling rocks because his nitch against the wall, but it did not keep him from becoming entrapped. All around him rocks clouded his vision and blocked him from any sort of light. Dean tried to move some of the rocks, but as they tumbled others took their place making the little pocket of earth around him half its previous size. Dean reached out in the darkness and found he only had about two feet of crawl space around him. He was also shrouded in complete blackness which led him to wonder how much oxygen was getting through all those rocks. Dean couldn’t help but bark a dry laugh. Well ain’t this just fucking peachy.

 

          Sam had lost himself in the hunt. For he was truly a hunter now. Vampires dashed at them in groups, trying every tactic they could to get within reach of Sam’s throat, but the void tells no lies. He eliminated them in an array of flashing light. He did not know if the others of his group were killing in kind, and it didn’t matter. Sam could have come here alone. He didn’t need the Chosen or even Eros. He didn’t need Dean or Castiel, Sam was one with the power that burned feverishly inside him.  
          “Do you see what he is doing Castiel? Do you see what he is using? He’s slipping again,” he heard Eros say behind him.  
          “Sam, please hold on…I can’t…”Castiel huffed. Already the angel had laid his hands on Sam twice and Sam suspected this was detrimental to the angel in some distant part of his mind, but he brushed the thought away. None of that mattered. The master was in front of him, pulsing in the void like a red blade of energy swirling in the black night of nothingness. He was alone, and he was waiting.  
          Sam rounded the last corner of the spiraling cave to see the vampire sitting in a throne of stone. Even with his eyes closed, he could sense the vampire there, poised and sneering at Sam in the distance. If he strained he could almost read the vampires thoughts. The creature was ready to die. He knew this was his time. Sam had destroyed everything he had built up; an empire gone in a night. And then there was…  
          “Who is the Chieftess?” Sam demanded and the vampire hissed. “Who is...Serrath?”  
          “How are you doing that?” Eros asked, his presence shrouded in wonder. Sam drank up the angel’s adoration and added it to the flame of his core. He smiled at the vampire.  
          “Tell me, Ultrad, what did Serrath ask you to do?” The vampire glared at Sam for a moment, shock painting his emotions and clouding his mind. Sam tried to dig deeper, to see what the vampire was hiding. The vampire winced from Sam’s effort but said not a word.  
          “Get out of here, all of you,” Sam said flatly and his Chosen moved to leave without question. Dig. Dig. Deeper and deeper. What was Ultrad hiding? What was shrouded in the box of his mind?  
          “Sam…” Castiel whimpered. His Grace was fleeting. Cas felt barren inside. He was so stupid to do all that. And not for Sam but for Dean. For Sam could see all of it so clearly now. All of them laid open, their secrets spread before him like a hand of cards revealed.   
          “Father in heaven,” Eros breathed, “I was right! He’s using Grace!” Eros, on the other side. Secretly hiding a brotherly adoration for Castiel that edged on sickeningly sweet. Both of them too vulnerable to be of use to him.  
          “Get out both of you,” Sam said again as he drove a blade of spirit into the box of the vampires mind, prying it open bit by bit. “Don’t make me force you.” Castiel was about to object, even though he was far too weak to fight Sam even without the Recurve, but Eros took his hard and the angelic brothers departed without another word. Again and again Sam drove the blade into the secret box. The vampires face contorted from the strain. Blood oozed from his ears and eyes. To think, such a powerful creature laid to waist by Sam Winchester.  
          “What are you hiding?” Sam shouted and with the words drove all his force of spirit into the box, bursting it open and shattering it to ruins. The vampire screamed, a hollow unnerving sound, as his mind broke under the strain. Sam saw what he needed to see and turned to go, but then noticed something more in the vampire’s mind. A safety measure, in case the master was compromised. The true reason that the aged being made no effort to attack him. Sam broke into a run.  
          The magic bomb detonated far before Sam was out of blast range and he knew it. Run as fast as he could, he would never get away. He turned as the concussion fell upon him and fired his arrows at the onslaught. In the last moment he bent the arrows to curve around him and act as a shield. The roar of the impact threatened to blow his ear drums, so he bent the arrows thinner to cover him in a dome. When the blast was past and the rage of the bomb subsided, Sam surveyed his surroundings unscathed. The wreckage mostly behind him, Sam was relieved to see the way out could still be navigated, and he turned to go. He didn’t have to worry if his friends made it out alive. He could already sense them ahead of him. Sam laughed to himself, a dry wheezing sound, as he thought about sinking his arrows into all of them at once. Shatter the world with his will. He could do it so easily. 

 

          “Dean?” Came a small voice and Dean lifted his head.  
          “Kim?” he asked past the rocks.  
          “They sent me back Dean to look after you,” said Kim and then in a softer voice, “I wasn’t brave enough.”  
          “See, that’s ok,” said Dean with a smile, “because you can be brave for me now, can’t you, Kim?”  
          “What do I need to do, Dean?”  
          “Shoot your arrows, or whatever it is you do, blast me out of here.”  
          “What?” Kim squeaked, “what if I hurt you?” Dean tried to steady his breath even though he could feel the air thinning. The rocks and dust around him settled in nicely to form a little air bubble for Dean, and the bubble appeared to be depleting.  
          “You aren’t going to hurt me. Ok? You’re a Chosen. You can do this.”  
          “Dean,” the girl’s voice was pleading but he didn’t let her continue to argue.  
          “Kim I am going to die if you don’t get me out of here,” he said sternly, “Now can you please blast the hell out of these rocks?” There was a long silence and Dean wondered what she was doing when a surge of light erupted in the rocks beside him.  
          “Holy shit!” Dean shouted and he curled against the wall as the rest of the rocks shifted and tumbled on top of him.  
          “Dean!” He heard Kim scream and then suddenly she was next to him frantically pulling rocks off his chest. Dean coughed and sputtered but then sucked in dusty air filling his lungs. “Dean I am so sorry. I am so so sorry.”  
          “Kim,” Dean said with a smile, “it’s ok. You were very brave.”  
          “Brave? By almost killing you? And look, I made you filthy!” For some reason, Dean found this concern of hers hysterical. Maybe it was relief that he was going to live to see another day, or that she was so worried about how he looked when she actually saved his life. He started with a chuckle, but before he knew it, he broke into rolls of laughter.  
          “Dean, did a rock hit your head? Are you bleeding internally, Dean?” Kim asked and it sounded so much like Cas, it only made Dean laugh harder.

 

          Castiel dragged his human vessel back through the darkness of the cave. He felt as though he had run across three states without the use of his wings. If he could even use his wings. Castiel took stock of his Grace. Not even enough to fill a thimble was left in him. If Dean should be gravely hurt now, all Castiel could do was watch in horror as his friend died. He didn’t even have enough to end his own life to save that of the hunter.  
          The quake that shook beneath him hardly registered in Castiel’s exhausted brain. The rocks that fell around them were easily thwarted by Eros’s own Grace.  
          “I am telling you, Castiel, he shouldn’t have been able to do that. Did you see the way he was weaving that Grace? The bends he put in the arrows to make them turn this way and that…what he is doing defies all comprehension. His power is far beyond what is safe for a human to wield.” Eros’s words registered in Castiel like a soft buzz. His ears rang, and he trembled from the effort of moving forward; his exhaustion threatening to do him in. It would be so nice to find Dean and just collapse into his arms. To sit beside him, and watch the sunny days pass by.  
          “Dean?” a voice called out and Castiel lifted his head. They were almost out of the wreckage now, the other Chosen just ahead of them in the widening expanse of the cavern. Was that…Kim? No matter, he would find out for himself soon enough.  
          Suddenly a blast from above them snapped Castiel back to alertness. He pulled away from Eros, not even aware he had been leaning on the other angel, and sprinted up the cave. His eyes blind to everything around him but Dean’s soul flickering in the distance. Castiel broke into the clearing of the large sleeping quarters which now were laid to wreckage from the quaking below. Before him he saw Dean laying under a scatter of rocks, Kim frantically trying to claw them off of him.  
          “Dean!” Castiel gasped and sprinted toward the hunter. His fear was coming to life. Dean was dying and he couldn’t stop it; he couldn’t save him. Castiel rechecked the amount of his remaining Grace, seeing if maybe he could ease Dean's pain or put him to sleep or...   
          The sudden burst of laughter for where Dean laid drew Castiel up short. He stood, gasping for breath, and watched as Dean laughed even harder at the little hunter Kim.  
          “Looks like your boyfriend survived,” Eros said casually behind him, and shook his head. “I will never get human humor.”   
          Castiel looked down at his empty hands. He turned away from the hunter and his friends; turned away from the angel that swore oaths to him. Castiel shuffled toward the cave exit wordlessly, and without notice, vanished outside.

Part 2- Epilogue

          Dean had about all he could take. His brother, sleeping deeply behind him, still clutched at the bow that now seemed welded to his hand. When he resurfaced from the cavern depths, Sam had…changed somehow. He was rambling on about destroying the world and seemed to not even see them. They tried to take the Recurve from him, but the moment it left his hand, he screamed bloody murder. Eros thinks that his mind cracked a little when that happened, and that it would surely break now without keeping that bow in his hand. Eros thinks the angel influence in the bow was the only thing keeping Sam in one piece. So that’s the first thing that was just fucking great.  
          Secondly, Sam was too incoherent when he was conscious to even tell them a damn thing he learned from the whole event. Eros said he made mention of a Chieftess and the name Serrath, but nothing else. Eros said that the split second Sam was without his bow shocked his mind so much that he couldn't form the words to explain what he saw. Eros said if they try to take it again, he thinks Sam will be lost completely to insanity.  
          Eros said, Eros said, Eros said. The problem was that Eros won’t bother to heal Sam because he ‘only answers to Castiel’, and Cas…Thirdly, Dean hasn’t seen Cas for two days. So they were back to that again. He’s had just about all that he could take.  
          The hunters mourned and burned those they lost, and did what they could to save those they could. Billy died, of course. He didn’t even survive the walk back to town. With word of mouth, the annihilation of over a hundred vampires and an ancient master reached all ends of the state and beyond. Hunters were flocking to them now to join up with the Winchesters. For it was two tales told, and two brothers people wanted to follow. The Chosen banded together and held vigil over Sam who they all silently deemed to be their leader. They guarded him day and night, and bound his bow to his hands with strips of cloth. They held on to the hope that Castiel would heal him. As he had healed him so many times in the cave.  
          Cas… how much Grace has he used to spare Dean's brother for him? It made Dean’s heart hurt for his friend. He could barely comprehend how the angel must feel, and Dean knows that Cas did all of it for him. Which certainly made him feel like the biggest royal asshole that ever walked the earth.   
Leaving Sam’s side, Dean got to his feet and walked to the edge of Rexpoint; to where the forest loomed in the distance. He located a large rock, and found it an adequate place to sit.  
          _Castiel?_ He closed his eyes and strained to send a prayer to his angelic friend. To his lover. To his hearts greatest desire. _Will you please come home, now? Please?  
          Dean… _ a weak voice echoed in his mind, and Dean settled in to wait for his angel to return.

          Castiel blinked up at the sun. He remembered how it felt good on his skin once upon a time long ago. Since leaving the cave, days have past under its blaring heat, and Castiel has yet to move from the open clearing in the woods. Ferns tickled at his hands, and the angel stretched his legs over mossy grass. Birds sang to him, and night crickets offered harmony. His mind registered none of it. His time spent in the past two days was submerged in contemplation.   
          _Castiel…_ a voice whispered in his head, and Cas held out his hand, bringing his fingers to rest softly against his thumb. The voice faded away.  
          “Dean…” Castiel mirrored in a whisper of his own, and his stomach twisted. He reached into his pocket, pulling something out from within. Slowly, Castiel opened his hand, and looked at smokey blue liquid contained in a small vial. He studied it for a long time, lost in the thoughts that have been tormenting him for days. He had a decision to make. It was past time he made it.   
          Slowly; cautiously, he lifted the vial in his fingers and worked the rubber stopper out of its opening. Tilting back his head, Castiel closed his eyes.

          “Looking for an angel?” Eros said and Dean turned to see the boy approach him. He grunted in response. Over the past few weeks he had to admit that Eros had been a great help to all of them. He is the reason they all survived. He is also the reason Sam is a human vegetable, but Dean tried to not think about that too much. One thing at a time. He scanned to forest line in the distance.  
          “Is he still out there, Eros?” Dean asked softly.  
          “Oh yes. Sulking as usual,” Eros said with a chuckle.  
          “Is he…well?”  
          “He’s alive, I don’t know what more to…” his voice broke off and Dean turned to look at him. Eros stared off into the distance, his expression slack, and his eyes wide. “No…” he whispered.  
          Suddenly a scream slammed into them as it stretched across the countryside. Dean was to his feet in an instant. He never heard a sound like this before. It stretched on and on, never ending, never pausing. An eternal, wailing, scream.  
          “What is that Eros?” Dean said edging on panic.  
          “I told him not to take it all at once,” Eros keened.  
          “Eros, what did he do?” Dean shouted.  
          “It’s suicide!” Eros’s face reflected the panic that Dean felt and suddenly realization fell over Dean like an ice shower. Without another word, he turned towards the woods and broke into a run.  
End of Part 2


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting more. You know how it is. GishWhEs and all that.

Part 3- Carry on My Wayward Angel

Chapter 21

          “Dean!” He could hear the voice coming from behind him. A jarring contrast to the screams bellowing in front of him. The tone of the scream had taken on a new high pitched keen that made his bones feel as though they might crack. He didn’t care. Let the pain come, he had to get to Castiel. “Dean stop!”   
          Suddenly Eros was there, standing in front of him; barring his way, and Dean skidded to a halt. His shirt was soaked in sweat and the air was thick with the promise of desperately needed rain. Dean looked past Eros to a light in the distance. It taunted him brightly between the thick trees.   
          “Let me past, boy,” Dean growled.  
          “Dean you can’t go there. He has no control over himself right now. You will burn up and I suspect that would be the least of your worries.”  
          “Let me go to him!” Dean shouted and glared at the little angel. Eros didn’t flinch. Instead he took a step towards Dean and made his voice low and sharp.  
          “Listen to me, Dean. You have got to calm down. With how sensitive he is, you are likely to cause him to combust with all your desperate longing.” Dean scowled at this but stopped trying to push back Eros. The boy angel tilted his head to the side, looking mischievous. “You know that trick you pulled when you were mad at your boyfriend? It felt like your soul was camped out in an igloo. Totally shut away from the outside world.” Dean blinked for a moment, and then he knew. Cold. Ice. Dean nodded. “Can you do it again?”  
          Closing his eyes, Dean concentrated. It was difficult since he was not mad, and worse he was edging on panic with the horrible sound coming from Castiel, but he focused on his breathing. Breath in, breath out, in then out; and finally the cold was there. Dean embraced it.  
          “Good!” Eros said, delighted. “You might actually avoid getting us all killed!” Dean glared at him, but held on to the ice inside him. He felt removed, distinctly distance from his surroundings, but still very aware that Cas needed him.  
          “Can we go now?” Dean asked in a much calmer voice, and Eros held up a finger.   
          “Soon, almost, but first…” reaching to his throat, Eros pulled a slim scarf from away his neck and placed it over Dean’s eyes.   
          “Is this really necessary?” Dean asked, feeling on edge with the blindfold in place.   
          “If you want to keep your eyes. I told you, he is not in control of himself. Alright…that’ll have to do. Let’s go.” Eros pulled at Dean’s hand and in a flash they were running again. Not being able to see, Dean relied entirely on the little angel to keep him from knocking his head off a low branch or snapping his ankle in a gnarl of root. He wouldn’t put it past Eros to hurt him for the fun of it, but he gave in to trusting the other angel in this because the alternative would be him groping through the forest on his own. The sooner he reached Cas, the better. The sound of the angel’s screams changed tone again and Dean covered his ears as it shifted into the familiar angel voice he heard when Castiel first tried to speak with him.   
          “Here!” Eros shouted through the throng, and rested his hand on Dean’s head. Instantly, the sound vanished.   
          “What did you do?” Dean asked  
          “Something your brother taught me,” Eros said with a chuckle, “I bent my Grace so that only the highest frequencies were masked from your hearing. Your brother really is quite brilliant. Learning to bend arrows the way he did…I didn’t know such a thing was possible.”  
          “Eros!”  
          “Right,” the boy angel said distractedly and grabbed Dean’s hand to pull him into a run once more. It was not long before Dean could feel the heat of light starting to bleed through the fabric of his companions scarf. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to block out the sight of Castiel’s true form.  
          “Father’s light…” Eros whispered beside him, “oh Castiel, what have you done?”  
          “What? What do you see?” Dean asked desperately. He reached out his hands and tendrils of heat snaked through his fingers. What was that? Was it Cas?  
          “Castiel!” Eros shouted and he pulled Dean closer to the heat. “Pull yourself together! You have to learn to control it! Castiel!”   
          “Where is he?” Dean asked. He could feel his body shaking. Was he shivering? Tendrils of heat snaked around him now; his face; ruffling his hair, and Dean could feel his breath catching in his throat. He clawed desperately at the ice that covered his mind and pulled it around him tight like a shield. “Please, Eros, take me to him.” The angel led him closer and soon Dean noticed that the terrain leveled out to a clearing where the ground was soft with moss.   
          “He is right in front of you,” Eros said in a shaky voice. He sounded terrified and if he was terrified… No. Cold. Ice. Dean took in an unsteady breath and then moved forward on his own. “Dean, careful!” Eros called out, but Dean brushed the boy’s voice away. His hands, reaching; exploring, reveled in the feel of Castiel’s true form moving through him like a pleasant memory or a peaceful afternoon. Was this what it felt like to be an angel?  
“Cas,” Dean said softly as his hands wandered about him searching. “Cas can you hear me?” No response except for the high pitched keen that Dean could not hear. Dean's foot caught an embedded rock and with a curse, he toppled forward, landing on his hands and knees. "Cas?" He edged forward in a crawl, hands reaching out, until at last his fingers brushed against a shoe.   
          "Castiel!" Dean exclaimed and his hands reached out, exploring. The crisp feel of his dress pants, the warmth of the skin beneath. Dean crawled closer; scrambling to reach the man he cared for and around him the heat of the air heightened; tearing at his clothes, pulling at his hair. It felt desperate and hungry. Dean gritted his teeth, hanging on to the ice inside him with a fingernail, fearing Cas would tear him apart if he left his emotions unshrouded. Dean found Castiel’s hands, and he pulled the angel, slumped over and lifeless, into his arms.   
          "Cas please, you gotta pull it together, man." Dean let his hands explore the other man's face, and Dean kissed him softly on his forehead. "Come on, Cas, put yourself back together. Please." The flames of his lover’s spirit lashed at him, leaving his skin pink and burned. Dean leaned in and placed soft lips upon the angel’s still mouth. "Come back to me, Castiel."   
          Suddenly the angel gasped as his body jerked upright. Dean screamed as the fire of the angel spirit rushed past him, lashing at his flesh with wisps of flame. The heat retreated into the vessel in his arms, and Castiel jerked reflexively from the assault.   
          "Dean!" Eros called out "let go of him! He's killing you! “   
          _The hell I will,_ thought Dean and he pulled the angel tighter to him as the last tendrils of flame licked at his skin. The air around him slowed and settled, before growing still. Dean waited a moment, then reached for the blindfold, uncovering his eyes. He winced at the sight of his arms, red and raw with blood and fluid seeping from his assaulted skin. He suspected the rest of him fared no better and the immeasurable pain left him numb. Cold. Ice.   
          "Castiel," Dean whispered through the clench of his teeth and winced at the effort of speaking. Cas was all in one piece again but he seemed no better for it. His body jerked and spasmed and shivered against some unseen assault.   
          "You people are all ridiculous," Eros snapped as he fell to his knees by Castiel’s side. "First Samuel, then Castiel, and now you Dean. Do you all throw yourself into the cook pot expecting to not get burned?"   
          "Eros...what's happening to him?" Dean was panting from the pain but he forced his arms to hold onto Cas as the angel struggled against him.   
          "He is fighting it," Eros said softly and he took up his brother’s hand. "He took the potion all at once. I told him he needed to do it over time. I told him it might kill him if he did it this way. Dean...I worry about what his intent was."   
          "We aren't going to talk about that right now. Can you heal him?" Blackness creeped into his peripheral vision and Dean worried he might pass out. "Help him. Please."   
          "I...I can’t. This is far beyond any skill I might have to ease the spirit. He's doing what he can on his own."   
          "Fine." Dean suddenly felt incredibly pissed off. "Then leave."   
          "Dean..."   
          "Go!" Dean roared and Eros flapped wings in retreat. He knew it wasn’t Eros’s fault. The pained look on the boy’s face told him that he would help Cas if he could, but Dean felt helpless himself and wanted no one to be there in that moment except him and the man that he loved.  
          "Cas," Dean whispered and grunted as he pulled the angel closer. His thrashing had subsided, but he still continued to tremble as though he had just been pulled from an iceberg. Dean kissed Cas' s forehead, leaving a smudge of blood in his wake. "It's my turn to look out for you, Cas," he said with a dry laugh that stabbed needles into his sides. Settling in on the mossy forest carpet, Dean waited for the angel to come to. All he could do was hope that Cas would fight through this and be alright.


	22. Chapter 22

          “Sam,” said a familiar sing-song voice, and Sam tried to move. How long has he been stuck in this room? He felt like he was tied down to something, but he was unable to test his restraints. He swam in and out of consciousness as though he were lost in a drug maze. “Sam, you have to open your eyes,” said the voice in his ear and Sam strained to respond.  
          “Wh….Who?” His voice sounded like dripping mud. What had happened? He was walking from the vampire cave, triumphant and proud, and then suddenly…what?  
          “Open your eyes, Sam! You can do it.”  
          “I…c…ca…” Sam started to swim. Consciousness was slipping.  
          “Sam, wake up!” shouted the voice and Sam’s eyes flew open. He was in a place that seemed oddly familiar. An old warehouse, long since abandoned and emptied. He was standing in the middle of the sun streaked concrete, and appeared to be there alone. Sam looked around for the source of the shouting. He had just heard shouting had he not? Was he just asleep? How the hell did he get there? Why did it look familiar? Memories and thoughts swam around each other; comingling in Sam’s mind and spurring his confusion.  
          “Hello, Sam,” said a voice from behind him and Sam spun around. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. A short distance away and dressed in a slate grey button down with black pants stood a man with his brown locks slicked back against his head. A half smile adorned his face, and his intense gaze bored into Sam with large hazel eyes.  
          “G…Gabriel?” Sam exclaimed. He recalled the last time he saw Gabriel, battling Lucifer in that staged hotel, and from Gabriel’s own message he knew that the angel had not survived the assault. He recalled Castiel mentioning something about him later but…”How…how can you be here?”  
“You mean, why am I not dead?” Gabriel asked with a smirk and he strutted towards Sam with an arrogance all his own. “Oh Sammy boy. There is so much you don’t know.”  
          “Like what?” Sam countered dejectedly. Gabriel has been toying with Sam and his brother since the first time they met. Showing up in this warehouse, which Sam remembers now to be the location of another enduring encounter with the angel, was just one more nuisance for him. He had a war to fight, and hunters to protect. He really had no time to deal with this pesky angel. Suddenly, horror flooded through Sam and he looked down to his hands.  
          “My bow!” Sam’s breath came out in shallow bursts as his eyes scanned the floor around him. “Where is it?” Dread squirmed into his stomach and left him lightheaded from his recent efforts to recover from his mysterious stupor.  
          “Calm down,” Gabriel said sternly, “your bow is here.” Immediately Sam grew suspicious. So now the angel was toying with him yet again, holding him hostage; hiding his bow.   
          “Fine.” Sam was in no mood to play the game. Especially without Dean there to help him through it. “Where is it then? What do you want from me?” Gabriel, only a few feet away now, studied the younger brother. Sam was surprised to see Gabriel’s expression which seemed somewhat dejected and hurt.   
                    “It’s not what I want from you,” Gabriel said cautiously, “it’s what I can give you.”  
          “At what cost? Will it cost your life again? Will it cost mine? How are you even here, Gabriel?”  
          “Oh Sam, Sam, Sam,” Gabriel said turning away from him. He looked around, admiring the warehouse rafters as though he were here for the architecture. “I am not here, Sam. Not really. This is the place your mind chose to meet me.” Sam thought about this for a minute and then realization mixed with relief in his mind.  
          “This is a dream,” he stated, not a question, but Gabriel nodded. “And you aren’t real.”  
          “Oh no, Sam,” Gabriel said, turning back to him again, “I am very much real.”  
          “Then explain it to me, I don’t understand.” Gabriel smiled at Sam with an odd sense of affection and held his hand up to snap his fingers. Suddenly the warehouse was gone and both men were sitting comfortably in the corner booth of an upscale strip club. This was a place Sam definitely did not recall from his memories.  
          “Ah that’s better,” Gabriel said stretching out in the plush seat and heaving a sigh, “now we can talk. You see Sam, I did die on that night so long ago. My horrible brother, Lucifer, doing me in. But…this is the way of the world, my friend. Nothing ever stays dead for long.”   
A waitress showed up with drinks on her tray even though they had not ordered any. Gabriel took them, nodding his appreciation to her, and handed one to Sam. Then he turned and admired the atmosphere.   
          “While Heaven has an infinite ability to bend all worlds as it sees fit, it requires energy to accomplish such a task. Human energy…angel energy…Eros,” Gabriel took a sip of his drink and his eyes rolled in the pleasure of it, “Eros is a chemist.”  
          “I have heard that before,” Sam said dryly, remembering Dean mentioning as much.   
          “Yes but my point is, how he can come up with some of the amazing stuff he does. He does not have the energy to create magical angelic fulcrums out of thin air. There has to be a source of energy.” Sam studied Gabriel, and their eyes held each other for a long time.  
          “You…he used your energy to create the Recurve?” Sam asked at last in a small voice.  
          “No,” Gabriel said with a laugh, “I am the Recurve, Sam. I am the bow that you carry even now, in the husk of a body your heart still beats in.” Sam shook his head, not wanting to believe.   
          “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he make dead archangels into bows?”   
          “They aren’t all archangels,” Gabriel said dryly, as he stirred the ice in his drink. Sam left his own drink untouched. “The others were made centuries ago by angels that have long since been written out of the history books. No, the only bow that is new, that is special, is me, Sam. He made me just for you.”  
          “Why you? Why not Zacharia or…”  
          “Opportunity? Who knows. Are you complaining?”   
          “No,” Sam said begrudgingly. He would hate the idea of listening to Zacharia in his dreams like this all the time. Actually, he was pretty glad it was Gabriel.  
          “Sam,” the angel said in a soft voice, and the bar around them faded to silence. The sound of his voice gave Sam a chill but he met the angel’s eyes. “Whatever reason he chose me, you must have noticed the result. You and I, we have a connection. We were destined for each other.”  
          “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Sam said, suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. Gabriel laughed.  
          “Not in that way, human. Our stories, for whatever reason, were written side by side. We are Soul-bound, Sam. I was meant to be your angel the way Castiel is bound to Dean. I am meant to be your protector, because you are a Sentinel soul: destined for greatness. Why do you think I kept popping back into your life? I just wish I had a chance to tell you before Lucifer ...” Sam broke his eyes away and dropped his gaze to his clenched fists. He most definitely did not want to think Gabriel to him was like Castiel to Dean. He did not fault his brother for his choices, but he certainly wasn’t going to follow them. Sam had to seriously question how insane Gabriel was at this point because all the stuff he was saying sounded pretty flipping crazy. And yet…  
          Even in this dream state, Sam could feel the tug of Gabriel sitting in front of him. He felt the need to look at the angel. To stare at him. To acknowledge that yes, he was there and they were together. He thought about how Dean always did the same thing with Castiel and he cringed.   
          “Sam,” Gabriel said, his voice soft and soothing, “the things you can do when you wield me…even Eros didn’t know it was possible. It’s the bond that we share that can make it possible. Do you understand?” Sam nodded quietly. It made sense. It seemed too unnatural that he could just pick up the Recurve and instantly know how to use it far beyond anything Eros showed him. But for him to tap into Gabriel’s very spirit that way was enough to make his skin crawl. He couldn’t explain why it also left him breathless and excited. He could not stop thinking about the way Dean looked at Castiel.   
          “There is just one small problem,” Gabriel said and he reached over to trail a finger along Sam’s cheek. Sam, lost deep in his own thoughts, recoiled from the touch. He was most definitely not going down this road with Gabriel. He couldn’t even imagine how it would be possible considering their circumstances and the fact that Sam was very much into chicks. Gabriel shook off a slight shrug and went on. “The problem is, you give too much of yourself to me. Even as a Sentinel, when a human soul comes in contact with a pure angelic presence, it rips away at you. It rips at your skin; rips at your soul. The human soul was just was not equipped for anything other than subservience to angels. When you dare to stand up to one, when you dare to challenge one as your equal, or…in your case, when you dare to tap into that angel Grace and funnel it through your very being to make it into something of a weapon…well. Let’s just say it’s been a while since you have laid eyes upon the conscious world.” Gabriel’s gaze was intense. He seemed to be trying to lay Sam open and process every ounce of his being. He willed Sam to know; to understand what was going on between them. Sam swallowed hard and tried to digest all of it. So many things seemed to fall into place. So much of it made sense.   
          “How…what do we do to fix the problem?” he said at last, and Gabriel smiled.   
          “Well, you’ll need an angel to mend your soul. Hopeful Castiel will be up for that challenge once he gets his Grace juiced up, but in the meantime, I think you and I have plenty of work to do here.”  
          “Doing what?” Sam asked and Gabriel’s smile widened.  
          “Just as you thought earlier, Sam, we have a war to fight, and I am going to show you how to use me in a way that won’t tear at your soul. I will show you how to bend arrows in ways you cannot imagine. You will be the strongest Marksman the earth has ever seen, and I will be by your side, guiding you every step of the way.”


	23. Chapter 23

          “Dean.” His name startled him awake and Dean gasped from the impact of it. The voice he heard came from inside his mind somehow, but it sounded as though someone had taken a bullhorn to his ear. The aftermath of it still lingered with a soft ringing inside his brain, and he shook his head to clear away the buzz.   
As reality came back to him, Dean’s first conscious thought was the intense pain. His face, neck, and arms which had received the worst of the abuse, had dried over. While fluid was no longer leaking out of him, the pain to his damaged skin was all the more intense with his skin feeling dried and crispy. He looked like a left over pork rind. When he moved, the pain only intensified but like so many times before, he pushed it away the only way he knew how: He welcomed pain like an old friend.

          “Cas? Was that you?” Dean asked in a croak. He worked moisture into his mouth, realizing he must have inhaled some of Cas’s scorching Grace as well. Dean looked down at the angel resting in his lap. Cas still shivered; tiny ripples of current along an ocean surface, but otherwise seemed to be asleep.

          “Dean,” came the voice inside his head again, and Dean winced. It sounded like a roar; like an explosion. It was too loud. Too loud.

          “Cass, buddy, you need to turn down the volume before you crack my skull.” The fact that Castiel was talking to him inside of his brain in the first place was of no consequence to Dean. He had some time to think about it and suspected that Cas had already spoken to him in this way the last time he was exposed emotionally, they just hadn’t realized he was actually doing it at the time. In any case, Dean was just glad to hear Cas’s voice after going days without it. He also was relieved that Cas was acknowledging him at all after the scare he had wondering if Eros was right. He worried Castiel was not going to survive his choices, but he seemed to be coming around.

          “I am sorry Dean, this is new to me,” Castiel mind sent in a much softer tone. But still it reverberated in Dean’s mind. 

          “Can you talk to me?” Dean asked.

          “I am talking to you,” was Cas’s response and the edge of annoyance in his voice made Dean smile. Which made him wince. Fuck, but his face hurt.

          “No with your mouth, Cas. You know, actually using words.” There was a long pause, and then slowly Castiel started to work his mouth open.

          “T-talk like this?” he said hoarsely. He rolled his eyes behind closed lids but otherwise remained motionless.

          “Yes! Thank you,” Dean said with a sigh of relief. Hearing Cas’s gruff low voice once more helped Dean to believe that he could recover from this. He might be alright, and moreso, he might be changed to that person he was before. Dean swallowed, feeling his mouth suddenly go dry again. “Cas can you open your eyes?” Slowly, the angel drew his eyes open, and squinted into the sun. Dean was not sure how many hours had passed while he was unconscious but they still had plenty of time to bake before nightfall. Cas’s eyes were bleary; unfocused, and he lifted his head, desperate to seek out Dean.   
At last green eyes met with blue and Dean marveled at how deep and pure the color of Castiel’s eyes were. The angel looked at him with such vulnerable adoration, Dean could not help but feel the familiar warmth rise up inside him reminding him how much he cared for Cas. Remembering what Eros had said, Dean pushed the feelings down hard inside. He didn’t want his emotions to overwhelm Castiel and cause him to go all poltergeist again. He didn’t understand how any of this worked but for the time being, he didn’t want to risk it.

          “F-father in h-heaven,” Castiel whispered, still shivering, “you’re b-beautiful. B-But look what I d-did to your f-face.” Dean tried to shrug which was hard to do while holding Cas, and he could feel his skin crack in places where his blood dried against fabric. Slowly, Castiel lifted a trembling hand to Dean’s face. The hunter sucked breath sharply through his teeth at the feeling of skin mending over skin and burns fading into healthy flesh. Looking at his arms, he saw the crusted blood flake away there; giving way to unblemished skin.

          “Cas, you healed me!” Dean said, amazed, “Eros said that your Grace-“

          “My G-Grace won’t be a p-problem anymore, D-Dean,” Cas said wearily. In spite of his words, he looked exhausted, and Dean, feeling not only healed but rejuvenated, slid Cas to the earth and got to his feet.

          “We need to get you back to town and into a bed.” Dean turned to look back the way he had come and tried to gauge how far of a walk it was. Would Cas be well enough to walk that far? “I can see if Eros can help…”

          “D-Dean,” Castiel whimpered and his voice sounded so distant. Dean dropped to his knees and leaned in close to the angel.

          “Cas, what is it?” he asked.

          “I’m so c-cold. C-Can you c-carry me, D-Dean?” The angel’s shivering intensified now that Dean was no longer holding him. Dean reached out, worried but feeling helpless, and ran hands over Cas’s face. He smoothed the creases on the angel’s brow and studied the curve of his trembling lips. Dean closed his eyes. What kind of sick bastard was he to think of kissing Cas when he was so obviously not feeling well? He just…needed reassurance and he needed to reassure Cas too but…no. How did that song go? Cold as ice. Dean started to hum the tune in his mind to distract him from the typhoon of emotions he was trying to avoid. He fought to concentrate only on the song and the task at hand.   
          Wondering if he would be able to hoof it so far back to town with an angel on his back, Dean decided there was no hurt in trying. _You’re as cold as ice._ He didn’t want to think about how vulnerable Castiel sounded and how terrified Dean was that the angel was in serious danger. _You’re willing to sacrifice our love._ He didn’t want to think about the open uninhibited love behind Castiel’s eyes when they looked at each other. _You want paradise._ All those things would bring about emotions that he couldn’t afford to have. _But someday you’ll pay the price, I know._ Turning, Dean got down on one knee.

          “Can you get on my back, Cas?” he asked Castiel nodded. He moved his trembling body methodically toward where Dean knelt. He managed, in spite of his vulnerable state, to snake his arms around Dean’s neck, and Dean pushed off his legs to get to his feet. He has punched Castiel before and knew the angel was as solid as granite, but he was surprisingly lighter to carry than Dean thought he would be. In fact, he weighed little at all.

          “Boy, Cas, you must be on a pretty intensive diet, you barely weigh fifty pounds.” Dean tried to joke but his laugh was forced. 

          “W-w-wings,” the angel managed to say and Dean couldn’t suppress the pang of worry rising inside him. The shivering was getting worse by the second and Dean could only imagine how hard it must be for Cas to use his wings like he was.

          _Please, Cas, be okay._ Castiel was not quite light enough for Dean to break into a run, but he walked as quickly as he could back to the town of Rexpoint. He would have liked to call Eros to help him, but he could sense that Cas didn’t want the other angel around. Hell, he could sense a lot of what Cas was feeling. Like how scared he was and how comforted he felt with Dean carrying him. Dean tried not to think about that too much. He just had to get them back to town. _You’re as cold as ice._ Dean hummed out loud.   
By the time they reached the edge of town, Castiel’s shivering turned into convulsions. Dean fought to control his emotions as panic wrapped a cord around his neck and tightened into a noose.

          “Help me!” Dean managed to call out to some hunters on the street, before toppling with Castiel sliding off his back onto the ground. In spite of Castiel’s shivering, Dean was covered in sweat from carrying the angel through the hot southern day and the distance left him exhausted. Hunters came running to aid him and he had them carry Castiel, thrashing and incoherent, into the house Dean had claimed as his own temporary home away from home. The hunters made way into the bedroom and Dean had them place Castiel on his bed.

          “Gentle, please be gentle,” Dean said feeling so helpless. He asked them to leave the moment Castiel was safely in bed, and they silently obliged him. When the hunters departed, Dean pulled at Castiel’s shoes and his coat. He didn’t want to make the angel move too much, so he found blankets from another room to cover him in. He layered about five blankets over Cas and still the angel shivered.

          “D-D-D…”

          “Shh. Cas, baby, it’s okay.” Dean sat on the edge of the bed next to where Cas laid and ran fingers through the hair at his temple.

          “D-Dean,” Cas tried again and his teeth chattered through the effort, “D-D-Don’t leave m-m-m..”

          “I’m here, Cas. I’m not leaving you.” Dean thought of Sammy then and how much he wanted to check on his brother, but it would have to wait. He would have to rely on the Chosen to help Sam this time. Dean felt so helpless to both the people he cared most about. Desperate, he reached out to take Castiel’s hand and discovered it was as cold as stone.

          “Fuck!” Dean recoiled and sprang to his feet. The noose panic had around his neck cinched just a bit tighter. He didn’t know what to do. Dean hurriedly worked off his boots and socks. His clothes were damp with sweat so he stripped away his shirt and jeans as well. In just his boxers he moved to the other side of the bed.

          He slid under the blankets behind Castiel and pulled the angel into his embrace. Cas’s stone cold skin was such a jarring contrast to the heat coming from Dean, it left him an utter wreck. All thoughts of inner tranquility and Foreigner songs left his brain. 

          "Cas I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do." Dean pleaded. He rubbed at Castiel's arms, trying to get friction to warm him but it was little help. He wrapped himself around Cas as best he could and willed warmth into the angel. He rubbed at Cas’s back and his arms. Slid hands over his legs and pulled him closer still. Slowly, over time and with Dean staying close to him, Castiel's spasms subsided once more to the rippling ocean water tremors he had before, and Dean was able to take firm reign of his own emotions. Fuck but this was hard. He fell apart for a minute there, and any cool emotionless void he might have had hold of fizzled away inside him. Holding Castiel's body close to him, Dean leaned over and kissed the angels neck. 

          "Please be okay, Cas," he whispered, and watched the afternoon sun shift into evening. Without conscious awareness, he drifted off to sleep.

 

  
          "Try it again," Gabriel said calmly, and Sam felt a strong desire to punch the guy in his throat. They were standing in a park because the angel thought the peaceful environment would help Sam focus. Little good that did.   
          "I am trying! I have been trying! It's not working!" Sweat slid freely down Sam's brow, and his body ached. It didn't matter that this was all just a dream, it felt very real.   
          "Pretty boy," Gabriel teased, "gentle boy. You wear your soul like a garment of lace. Soon there will be nothing left to tie the threads together. You have got to try again. Clear your mind but ignore the void. Find my Grace without slipping into your soul."   
          Sam closed his eyes and strained to focus on the ball of energy, what he once mistook for Angel fire, as Gabriel instructed him, but he kept feeling it slip through his fingers the moment he touched it.   
          "I can't focus on it!" Sam growled and Gabriel threw his hands up, exasperated. The men exchanged a long tormented look. Both wanted the same thing but to get it to happen seemed impossible. After a moment, Gabriel sighed.  
          "Look, Sam. I'm sorry. I am not being fair to you. I was constructed for you and only you to use. To feel the energy; the power you have when you wield me...it makes me feel so alive. And I would do just about anything to be alive again." Suddenly somber, Gabriel moved to a nearby bench and sat down. After a moment, Sam joined him.   
          "I understand how you feel,” Sam admitted, “the power I feel when I'm bending arrows. There is nothing else like it in the world. Not demon blood, hell not even Lucifer can compare to that kind of power." Gabriel smiled broadly at the compliment.   
          "Aww Sammy boy, I'm touched," he said and he genuinely looked pleased. Reaching out, Gabriel took Sam's hand in his own and offered it a reassuring squeeze.   
          Suddenly, Gabriel’s Grace flooded into Sam in a torrent and Sam gasped at the sudden explosion of heat.   
          "Father's light!” Gabriel said, startled, and he recoiled from Sam, withdrawing his hand. The Grace winked out, leaving a bright afterimage in the air between them. Sam realized he was panting. So was Gabriel. Both men stared at each other trying to make sense of what this meant.   
          "I need to touch the Recurve, you are my fulcrum." Sam offered.  
          "You have had your physical hands on the Recurve since the moment we met in the warehouse," Gabriel retorted.   
          "So for this to work..." Sam said.  
          "It's not you that reaches out for me..."  
          "…but instead you have to reach out for me," Sam concluded, and felt a bit dejected. Yet again the control was out of his hands. He's just a pawn to another higher power.   
          "Don't think that way, Sam," said Gabriel sounding hurt. So he could read the other’s thoughts now. Sam supposed there were no secrets when they were both in his mind.   
          "Why not? It's true,” Sam admitted.  
          "Because," Gabriel said with his half smile, "you will have to _let_ me touch you for this to even work. It's a mutual partnership, you see. Will you partner with me, Sam?" Sam could tell Gabe was playfully teasing him and did not respond. Instead he glared at Gabriel. He was getting a little tired of how everything was a joke to him.  
          "How can I possibly trust you after everything you have done? “He asked softly.  
          "Sam Sam Sam," Gabriel said shaking his head. His smile grew, becoming more genuine. "I love humanity Sam, and you are the best among your kind. I would do anything you ask of me. Because I am your angel and yours alone. Because I am Soul-bound to you. Because I am subservient to you. Because I am your lamb and do only what you command of me. And because you are the human I love most of all. So trust me, Sam. Please. Because what else do we have in here but each other?"


	24. Chapter 24

          The sun kissed Dean’s skin from the bedroom’s double window, and he rolled onto his back to stretch. He wasn’t quite awake, but instead nestled into a luxurious place between waking and sleeping where dreams came and went; where all the problems of the world were so far removed from where he was. Dean could feel himself smile, feel the edges of reality creeping in at the corners, but fought to push it all away so that he could have just a few more moments of peace. Warm hands slid down the length of Dean’s chest and he hummed appreciatively. Tentative kisses followed which made Dean squirm a little; shifting his weight from left to right.  
          “Cas?” he whispered the question, not yet willing to welcome the world he hid from behind closed eyes. This was an amazing dream after all. The kisses continued as fingertips traced along the ridges of his thighs. Dean grunted softly, and his squirming intensified. Distantly, he could feel his arousal growing and he welcomed it. He thought about how the angel made him feel in that meadow so long ago. The touches and the kisses, and Dean’s breath caught in the pleasure of the memories revisit.  
          Knowing it to be a dream, Dean strained not to wake up. He felt the warm desire of his companion basking him like a summer sun and he embraced the angel’s love. For Dean had no question in his mind that Cas loved him unconditionally, and that he felt the same way. Sure he was not good at saying mushy stuff out loud, and probably would never admit those words unless backed into a corner, but it was nice to actually accept the way he felt. His thoughts seemed to make the movements of those lovely hands intensify. Softly, fingers traced closer to Dean’s hardness, for he was very erect now, and applied the slightest pressure to make his breath catch. A noise escaped the back of his throat.  
          “Dean…” a voice whispered, and Dean’s eyes suddenly snapped open. Shit. This was not a dream. This was real, very very real. All around him, he could feel the heat of Castiel’s Grace. How it was enveloping him in a warm bubble of air that swirled with lust, and longing, and love. He looked up to see Cas leaning over him and peering intently at his face, with his head slightly tilted to one side. Amazing blue eyes studying him with a soft affection that tugged on all those emotions pouring out of his soul.  
          “Fuck!” Dean exclaimed, and tried to roll out of bed only to get caught in the blankets kicked to his feet and he fell hard to the floor. He winced at the jab of pain to his ribs and slowly turned to lay on his back. Looking up, he saw Castiel peering over the edge of the bed at him. His face left Dean breathless. His hair was mussed and stuck every which way, a brush of stubble softened his firm jaw, and his lips were slightly parted; inviting to let Dean in. So many emotions played across his features that Dean struggled to read them all. Worry, confusion, curiosity, desire…but behind everything was that pure unhindered love that glowed in his eyes. Those astoundingly blue eyes.  
          Dean could feel himself almost reaching out to Castiel spiritually and the angel responded instantly; melding Grace to soul, intermingling the essence of both of them in a fiery bond. Remembering what Eros said, Dean scrambled to pull away. He tried to get to his feet and stumbled over his stupid legs, seeming to peddle backwards into the wall. His back hit hard and his air escaped him in a grunt. He looked down and realized he was still only in his boxers; his dick at full attention. That was so not helping. Desperately, he clawed at that place in his mind that allowed him to sink into cool impassiveness.  
          “Dean?” Castiel said again, and his voice sent ripples of longing through the hunter. He pushed at the Grace that was circling him. Pulled at the emotions pouring out of him. He sought out the ice inside him. Scrambled to find that void of winter. He could not hurt Castiel again.  
          The angel studied him for a moment, and then slid off the bed to stand. Still in his usual suit attire, Cas moved closer to Dean while he worked at the buttons of his shirt.  
          “Just…stay away from me, Cas,” Dean said holding his hand out in front of him. He tried to ignore the erection throbbing in his boxers. His emotions swirled inside him like a hurricane. He never expected Cas would catch him so off guard in his sleep.  
          “Dean, calm down,” Cas said levelly. This was far removed from the Castiel of the previous afternoon, or the Castiel who bought him thirty five bacon cheeseburgers. This was a new Castiel that seemed confident and yet vulnerable; ready and longing, and yet innocent and sensitive.  
There was a small smile playing on Cas’s lips as he pulled his shirt off and slid the tie from around his neck. Dean tried to not look at the angel’s bare skin. The way his muscles rippled as his arms worked the clothing off of his body. His cock gave an intrigued twitch at the sight.  
          “I can’t calm down,” Dean said through his teeth, “That’s the problem. I can’t turn it off.”  
          “Oh, no,” Castiel said and his face broke into one of those rare brilliant smiles. “I don’t want you to.” His belt felt to the floor, and Dean felt lustful heat pool in his stomach. He tried not to stare, but god, how could he not?  
          “We can’t do this, Cas, you’ll burst out of your vessel again.”  
          “I have spent a lot of time getting all that figured out last night, Dean.” Cas’s voice was throaty. It sounded like nothing Dean had ever heard from him before and he quelled the strong desire to just take hold of himself and start stroking. Cas’s pants fell to the floor next and he kicked them off his feet calmly. No tripping over his own feel for this angel the way Dean did.  
          “It’s not safe,” Dean whispered, as the last bit of hope he had to find the cold inside him fell away. It was too late, he was submerged too deep in the angel’s Grace. And if Cas should show his true form again, so be it. Dean was too lost in the moment to care a whole lot about his eyes. 

 

          Casually closing the remaining distance between them, Castiel stood inches from Dean, stripped to the white soft cloth of his boxers as well. Castiel studied the sensual hard jaw of his lovers face. He admired the pink blush of Dean’s lips, and the way his eyes danced across Castiel’s own features. He looked lustful, aroused, and utterly terrified.  
          “Dean, I am sorry for all the hurt and worry I caused you,” Castiel said sincerely, “but please. I beg of you…don’t close yourself off like that again.” It was horrible to see the man’s love just under the surface of something hard and icy, and not to be able to bask in it. To bathe in that wonderful light of love and desire. To drink it in and expand from it like a kaleidoscope of color blooming from darkness. Castiel felt as though he was starving the day before, when Dean held him close but wouldn’t let his emotions emit from his soul.  
          “Cas, I-“, but before Dean could say any more, Cas fell onto him; pushing him against the wall. Their lips met and all thoughts of worry or danger seemed to melt away from Dean. The kiss was desperate and hungry, as both men explored each other after months of being apart. Castiel rutted against Dean, pressing him harder against the wall, which caused both men to moan softly against each other’s lips.  
          Cas felt like he was on fire. His desire and longing overcame all other thought process in his mind. He knew deep down that there were dangers to this; that there were things Dean needed to understand; that he still didn’t know the full weight of what he had done. All of this was a very serious concern, but to wake up next to Dean who was practically naked and basking in the sun…Cas just couldn’t think about those things right now. All he knew was this overpowering need inside him. He needed Dean. He _needed_ Dean. Firm muscles flexed as Castiel pulled Dean away from the wall and towards the bed. 

 

          “Cas…Cas, wait,” Dean said, struggling to catch his breath.  
          “Dean. You’re so perfect. I can’t stop…I can’t” Castiel’s eyes were hooded and drunk with longing. His body firm as he pushed Dean onto the bed and climbed on top of him. When their lips met, Dean’s hair mussed under the swirl of Castiel’s Grace. More swirls explored the length of his smooth tanned skin. His body felt so hot from the exposure, he could hardly breathe.  
          “Cas,” Dean groaned as he tilted back his head against the bedsheets. Cas’s kisses worked down the length of Dean’s neck and across the tight plains of his chest. His Grace whipped at Dean, making him groan louder. “Cas…stop.”  
          “Dean…Dean… I love you so much, Dean,” the angels hands explored him fervently, causing his breath to quicken. Cas’s erection slid against his leg, and Dean reveled in the way the angel trembled with his longing. His Grace flowed freely, intertwining with Dean’s soul, running the length of his body, tendrils teasing at his skin. Dean closed his eyes and tried to loose himself in the sensations but it was so damn intense. He couldn’t breathe. He just couldn’t…  
          Dean could feel Cas lean down to nuzzle a nose against his crotch; breathing in his scent, and suddenly the intensity of those tendrils of Grace increased. It left Dean gasping as they whipped against his skin. Pleasure gave way to a stinging pain.  
          “Cas!” Dean said and his hands pushed at the angel’s shoulders. His back. Dean’s body thrashed from the assault and his pushing became desperate. “Cas, STOP!” 

 

          Castiel’s eyes flew open and suddenly he was across the room, back pressed against the wall. His eyes wide, he stared at Dean, who was pink and raw from the heat of Cas’s Grace.  
          “Dean!” Cas cried out, horror painting his features.  
          “Calm it down,” Dean pleaded and Cas strained to get his Grace under control.  
          “I’m trying,” he said wincing.  
          “Calm it down, Cas!” Dean shouted, and Cas squeezed his eyes shut. Too many tendrils of his Grace had crept out when he was unfocused and now they filled the room. Dean, lost amongst the glowing light, was curled up on the bed in an attempt to be shielded from the heat of those tendrils as they thrashed against him; desperate to absorb the energy radiating from his soul. With an effort like moving a mountain, Cas slowly pulled his Grace back from the brink and contained it inside him. The energy overwhelmed him. He could barely find the space to contain it. It seemed to take an eternity of effort, but only lasted a moment. When he was finally able to reign himself in, Cas rushed over to where Dean still lay curled into a ball on the bed.  
          “Dean, oh Dean I’m so sorry,” he breathed and put his hands against the hunters skin. Red/pink welts faded under Castiel’s touch, and Dean’s face smoothed out. He opened his eyes and looked at Cas.  
          “Looks like you don’t have this as much under control as you thought,” he deadpanned, and Cas ducked his head. He was so ashamed of what he had done he couldn’t bear to meet his lover’s eyes. “Hey now,” Dean said in a softer tone, “shit happens, alright? We’ll figure it out.”  
          “I wanted very much to please you,” Cas said sadly. “Perhaps explore the option of oral sex.”  
          “Yeah…well…” Dean cleared his throat. “Let’s just…take it one day at a time. Go…slower, maybe?” Cas nodded and then leaned in to kiss the hunter but Dean stopped him. “No more crazy Grace stuff for today, okay?” Castiel blushed but smiled weakly and his lips teased across the other man’s mouth.  
          “Okay,” his lips whispered against Deans. A soft knock at the door and both men froze. There was very little they could do to explain away what they were just doing in that moment.  
          “Yeah?” Dean said in his best nonchalant voice.  
          “Dean? It’s…it’s Kim,” came a voice from the other side. “Can I come in?”  
          “No!” both men said at the same time and then looked at each other.  
          “Uh…Sam’s awake,” Kim said through the door, and angel and hunter alike pulled away from each other.  
          “I’ll be right there,” Dean called out and they slid off the bed to get dressed. Cas listened to Kim’s footsteps indicating her departure. “So Cas, you’re all better now? I mean…aside from a few kinks that need to be worked out,” Dean asked and Castiel beamed a smile over at the hunter.  
          “Yes, Dean, I feel much better now…aside from a few kinks.” Dean slid a clean shirt over his frame and then turned to glare at the angel.  
          “Good, then you won’t mind if I kick your ass later for scaring me like you did. You shouldn’t have gone and done that without talking to me first. I am pretty fucking pissed off at you.” Castiel frowned. He no longer had to put effort into understanding the emotions emanating from Dean. The bond they shared had no obstacles now, and so Cas knew that Dean was sincerely angry just as he was certain that Dean knew how confused this caused Castiel to feel.  
          “Dean,” he said cautiously, “I am sorry if I-“  
          “You could have died out there, Cas!” Dean said, suddenly shouting. Cas blinked, confusion turning into bitter guilt. Were their tears in the other man’s eyes? Cas did not like the feeling of this new emotion. Guilt, while not something he was lacking in, never felt this wretched before.  
          “Yes…” Cas tried to choose his words carefully. “At the time, I honestly didn’t think about living or dying. I just wanted to _feel_ something. I wanted to share that part of your life that I have spent so long not understanding but desperately trying to. I felt that if I was meant to survive the transition I would, and I did survive it for you. But Dean… I am so sorry if I upset you with my decision. I fear I won’t be able to change it now.” Dean studied Cas for a long time, then grabbed his pants from the floor and speared his legs into them. Cas was almost sad to see the hunter clothed. He was so perfect undressed, he was like a work of art.  
          “And what about your Grace, Cas? I never felt so much mojo out of you before. Where is it all coming from?”  
          “Ah, well…that requires some explanation,” Cas said slowly. He hesitated because he was worried to tell Dean the truth. He didn’t know how Dean would feel about it since Cas himself was not entirely pleased with the reality of the situation. He still sensed anger from the hunter and while it was ebbing, the last thing Cas wanted to do was add more fuel to that smoldering fire. “Maybe it’s a discussion best left for after our visit to your brother?”  
          “Yeah,” Dean said with a shake of his head. “Let’s go see Sam.”


	25. Chapter 25

          They placed Sam in a home two houses away from the one Dean had chosen. This suited Sam because the house had a chaise lounge in a sun room with accordion glass doors, which allowed Chosen to come and go while they tended to him. Castiel noticed Donna and Kim were standing outside of the doors watching Castiel and Dean approaching with a sort of stern protectiveness that Castiel did not recall seeing in them before. Castiel warily followed closely behind Dean who trudged without hesitation towards the opened doors.   
          "This is nothing new, Cas," he explained, "Sam has woken up before but I like to be notified when he does. I just like to see if there are any lights on upstairs."   
          "Well hopefully I can help him with that," Castiel responded as his eyes drifted towards the two women while he walked by. They scowled at him openly which was definitely unsettling. Castiel meant what he said. He sincerely hoped he could help bring Sam around and that his Grace would help heal the younger brother. For more reasons than Dean could possibly know.   
          They rounded the last corner, and Castiel's stomach clenched. Eros was sitting in a small chair next to Sam's bed. When he looked up and saw Cas approaching, his jaw dropped open in shock. Castiel sighed. He had hoped he could avoid the other angel for a little longer while he came up with an explanation for Dean. One that did not make Dean feel used and loathsome towards Cas. He didn't think he'd be able to face that.   
Immediately, upon Dean entering the sun room, Eros was on his feet.  
          "How could you do this to him?" The boy angel shouted at Dean, and Castiel felt a pang of guilt for avoiding him. It seemed that, since Eros swore fealty to serve Castiel, he has taken his vows very seriously. He almost looked up to Cas with an adoration akin to the way Sam sometimes looked at Dean.   
          "I didn't do this to Sam, Eros," Dean said with an edge of challenge in his voice, "You know that." Eros opened his mouth to retort but Castiel put a gentle hand on his shoulder.   
          "A moment with you, brother?" He asked and then space shifted the two of them to the outskirts of town without waiting for a response. As soon as their wings settled Eros laid into him. Clenched fists pounded at Castiel's chest as the boy half shouted half sobbed.  
          "Castiel, your Grace! You’re glowing like a supernova! Why did you do this? How could you let him do this to you? How can you do this to yourself? You're going to die if you keep...Why can't you just listen to....Oh, Castiel!" The boy collapsed to the ground and Castiel bent to soothe him. Cas spread his Grace over them like a blanket and hugged the little angel to his chest.  
          "It needed to be done. I was useless to him without my Grace."   
          "But his emotions...they are just pouring out of him unchecked. I told him to temper his soul; to shroud in the void...why did he not listen?"  
          "Because," Castiel said softly, and a small smile touched at his lips, "I told him not to. And because he doesn't know." Eros pulled away and looked up at his brother. His eyes, filled with the same tears the streaked his face, looked genuinely distraught.   
          "Castiel...no. Don't do that...you must tell him. What about your vessel?" he said softly and Castiel chuckled.   
          "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you've been drinking your own potions with all these tears, Eros,” he said as caught one tear on his crook of his finger. “As long as I have hunters to heal, I’ll be alright, and there are always hunters to heal. Please...let me tell Dean."   
Eros stared at Castiel for a long time. His eyes haunted and distraught with all the knowledge he couldn’t share. After an eternity, he nodded wordlessly and Castiel gave the boy a final hug before pulling him to his feet.   
          “We need to head back. I must tend to Sam,” Castiel said, pulling away.  
          “Yes, you do,” Eros said sullenly, “or your vessel isn’t going to last the day.” They space shifted back to the room where Sam waited.  
          Dean was sitting next to his brother when they returned and Castiel felt the familiar pull to go to him. He was Soul-bound to Dean, he always has been, but the connection has only intensified as of the day before. Castiel distantly wondered if he would no longer be able to resist obeying any command Dean placed upon him, but he brushed the thought away without much worry. It was what it was, and he regretted none of it. He gave up heaven for Dean, and for the chance to live freely with the only person that gave him meaning and purpose. Nothing else mattered to him but that.  
          Castiel studied Sam. The younger brother sat upright, and with eyes open, but Cas could sense a hollow space in his middle. It was almost as if he had lost his soul again even though Castiel knew better. There just was so little of it left there.   
          "Did you put Cupid in his place?" Dean jabbed and Castiel could sense his brother growing defensive.   
          "Eros understands the situation now," Castiel said firmly; a reminder to the boy to watch his tongue. Eros glared at Castiel with hurt eyes before ducking his head and stomping out of the house. Castiel sighed. He would have to console his brother later but for now, he must heal this brother and quickly.   
          "Dean…there is so little of Sam's soul left. If I heal him there will be. .. scar tissue. He cannot safely use the Recurve again." Dean nodded and Cas suspected it was always the hunter’s intent to remove the Recurve from his brother’s hand. Taking a deep breath, Castiel took a step forward and placed his fingers on Sam's forehead. He took his time with the act.   
          In the past, his healing was rough and rugged. A field dressing that cost minimal Grace for the effort. But now, he was a surgeon. Grace threaded and weaved, bobbed and pulled while Castiel felt the store inside him trickling away. He ignored the vacancy where once he was so full, and closed his eyes to concentrate better on the finer blemishes of Sam's soul. As he worked, hours passed, and Sam lulled into sleep once more. He was exhausted from the strain the effort took on his body, and Dean laid his brother back down against the chaise lounge. Castiel struggled to steady his breath, straining in his search along the surface of Sam's soul.   
          "Cas, you alright?" Dean said in a raspy voice and his hand closed over Castiel’s leg. Cas could feel the hunter’s adoration for the effort he was taking, and he almost moaned from the pleasure of it. It was enough to get him through, and eventually Castiel was satisfied he had done all he could. He cleansed Sam's soul without extinguishing those things that made Sam unique. The pain he felt for the losses of his family and fiancé, the betrayal he felt for all the demons that manipulated his life, the painful insecurity he garnished towards his brother... these things and so many others Castiel kept as he weaved and mended torn and tattered soul around them.   
          _Castiel,_ a voice whispered in his mind, _you always were the best healer among us._  
          Suddenly Castiel lifted his hand from Sam and recoiled as if burned. He struck the chair Eros had been using and it toppled to the floor. Dean was next to him in a heartbeat.   
          "Cas? Are you okay?" Dean asked urgently and Castiel shook his head. That voice... he knew that voice.   
          "I'm just tired," he admitted which was certainly true.   
          "Here, let me take you back to bed. You can finish this up when you're feeling better." But again Cas shook his head. Father's grace, he was tired. How much of himself had he given?   
          "I can't rest yet, Dean. There is something I must discuss with you first." He didn't mean to sound so weary. Dean helped him to his feet and, with a few last words to his sleeping brother, led Cas back to the other house up the road. Cas could not place the voice he heard, but it emanated from Sam’s soul. There was a dark spot there, something so small that Castiel almost missed it. It did not look damaged just…hidden. Cas made a note to explore this area further after Sam was given some time to rest.   
          "We won't be able to stay here much longer," Dean said, suddenly sounding nervous and Cas was brought back from his distraction.   
          "Dean..."  
          "People are gonna come looking soon when they can't get ahold of grandpa or Aunt Susie by phone. We need to be long gone before that happens."   
          "Dean, listen..."   
          "I can't imagine what they are going to think, coming to town and finding it completely vacant. I sure as hell don't want to stick around to find out." Castiel stopped walking and stood staring at the hunter. At first Dean didn't want to meet the angel’s eye, but then reluctantly gave over. Blue to green, and the love in the hunter's soul fueled Castiel’s determination to see this through.   
          "Dean why are you trying to avoid this conversation?" Dean scratched at his head and turned away, breaking the connection.   
          "Cause I see the look on your face, Cas. I sense…I don’t know, I just feel like you are scared. Anything you have to say can't be good." Dean was right. Castiel was terrified. It was an emotion he did not think too highly of. But just because he was afraid to tell Dean didn’t mean he could avoid it any longer. If he lost Dean because of this, at least he did it honestly.   
          Taking Deans hand, the angel led him back to the house and climbed the stairs to the bedroom. The sun was still high in the sky, but Cas longed for the warm plush comfort of the bed against his skin.   
          "Dean, there was another reason why I drank Eros’s potion," Castiel said softly. He could not look at the hunter, feared what he might read on the face of the man he loved, so he busied himself with taking off his coat and jack; shoes and socks. "In the cave...I had used all my Grace. I couldn't protect you anymore. I had nothing to offer you. "  
          "Cas-"  
          "Please," Cas interrupted, meeting the hunters gaze for an instant, and Dean said no more. "A... side effect of my time with you in the meadow, Eros noticed a surge of Grace within me far greater than what I had carried before. We realized it was a direct result to the link I had on your soul." Cas shed his pants, leaving his shirt and tie in place, and slid onto the soft blankets of the bed. Oh but it felt so good to lay down. He turned to face Dean, but when the hunter moved to join him, he shook his head. He wanted Dean to not be clouded with intimacy when hearing Cas through.   
          "When I feel emotion from you... love, desire, longing... these emotions are strong and are channeled through your soul. Only the strongest emotions linger there. The ones with history. Even now I can sense your desire towards me in my state of half undress." Dean’s complexion took on a rosy color and he sucked at his teeth with his cheek.   
          "Shut up, Cas," he muttered looking away.   
          "Dean, I made a promise that I would always protect you. That I would never hurt you or use you the way so many angels use humans for their own gains. And now, here I am doing the opposite." Suddenly, large tears welled in Castiel's eyes, distorting his vision, and he moved to wipe them away. He didn’t expect to start crying. He never knew himself capable of it.   
          "Cas, I don't understand.”   
          "I told you before how valuable a human soul can be. It's a renewable resource, it never burns out because it's fueled by emotion." Cas's voice hitched and he stopped to swallow. More tears replaced the last and his voice grew thick from the effort to keep his despair under thumb. He could feel Dean moving closer to him but he tried to concentrate. He had to get this out. "The human soul should be protected, at all costs. Your soul should be protected more than any other." Cas covered his face; hid his eyes, desperately trying to force the tears to stop. "And here I am... _feeding on you_ ...using your emotions to fan the flame of my Grace. I took Eros’s potion so that I could restore my Grace by using your love for me. Dean… I am so ashamed.”  
          Warm arms closed around him and Castiel let Dean pull him into an embrace. He sensed nothing but sympathy and understanding from the hunter which he didn’t deserve. There was supposed to be anger. There was supposed to be disgust. The pureness of Dean’s heart only made Castiel cry harder and he wept against Dean’s chest. He didn't want to touch him, didn't deserve to touch him, but even in that moment of despair his body called out to Dean with a desperate hunger far more primal than anything a soul or Grace could influence.   
          "So what you're saying," Dean said after Castiel’s sobs subsided a bit, "is that you use my emotions like a battery to recharge your angel mojo?" Castiel nodded against Dean’s chest. "I don't understand, why did Eros tell me to hide my emotions from you then?"   
          "I...," Castiel swallowed hard. It had to be done. “I don’t know how to stop it once I start. I keep drinking you up over and over and… My Grace has far exceeded any power I had before. If I can’t use it, I will combust. If I hold on to it too long, my vessel will burn up the way Lucifer’s did. I know I shouldn’t …but I just can’t stop. The way you feel towards me, it’s addicting.” Dean was silent for a long time and after a while, Cas looked up at him through teary eyes.   
          "Do you think I'm a monster?" He asked in a small voice.   
          "Cas,” Dean said softly and pulled the angel tighter against his chest. He buried lips into Cas’s hair to kiss him affectionately on his head. "You’re not a monster. It will be okay, we just got to be careful until you learn to control it. I can’t lose you now after everything seems to be coming together for us. I need you too much.”  
          "I need you too, Dean," Castiel said relieved, and wiped the remaining tears from his eyes.  
          “Cas…since you spent all that time working on Sam, your Grace should be pretty tapped out.”  
          “Completely drained,” Cas admitted sadly.   
          Dean leaned in and kissed him tenderly for a long time, warm body pressed to warm body. His love was gentle and soothing, but still the kiss left Castiel breathless. As well as rejuvenated. They might be able to make this work after all. Smiling slightly, Castiel reached to undo Dean’s jeans.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last night, I finished Eros's Arrow. It is 52 chapters long. While I understand this is a pretty grand venture, there is a lot of story to tell. I have grateful to all of you that have stuck with me this far and continue to give me encouraging words of support. You can not imagine how much your comments mean to me. It excites me to see the story through your eyes and relive it all over again. Finishing this book has been bittersweet. I always refer to this as my personal canon but as I wrapped up the epilogue I knew that there was no story left to tell. I feel really really good about the story as a whole so I hope you continue to enjoy it.  
> I post chapters as I go over them and edit them. I just want to make sure there are no slip ups becuase when I was writing chapter 26, I had absolutely no preconceived notion as to how the story would end. Even as I finished Chapter 50 and started into the epilogue, I didn't know that the story would end as it did. So I kind of took this story as a little journey as well. I just got to the end of the road before you did.  
> Never stop reading!  
> Sarah Jane

          Shouting in the distance teased at Dean's mind but he pushed it away. He wanted to stay with his angel and just be domestic for a few minutes longer. Let the world go by without him.  
          _Dean!_  
          Dean sat up, jarred into alertness, and clutched at his skull. _Volume, Cas!_ He shouted at the voice inside his mind.  
          _...sorry,_ Cas whispered through his thoughts, and suddenly Dean could see an image in his mind from Cas’s point of view of creatures pouring out of the woods and towards the town.  
          "Fuck!" Dean exclaimed, and in an instant Cas was standing beside him.  
          "Thousands of monsters are flooding into town, Dean," Cas said making the most obvious statement of the year.  
          "Are hunters already fighting?" Dean asked, but heard no response. Dean turned to Castiel and registered how he was already fully dressed, and that his eyes lazily watched Dean who was very much undressed.  
          "Cas! Focus!"  
          "Yes! Dean, they are already fighting,” Cas said looking away, and his cheeks colored a little. Cursing under his breath, Dean tossed clothing over his body roughly and went for his guns.  
          "What's out there, Cas?"  
          "Sprites," Cas said flatly and Dean turned to stare at him.  
          "What?"  
          "Sprites," Cas repeated, “and a dozen other fairy type creatures. You can’t see them though, which will make this more challenging. I seem to be able to see their energy signal, but no one else here will." Dean waited for Castiel to say this was a joke but the words didn’t come.  
          "What the fairy fuck,” he said flatly, and Castiel burst into laughter. "Cas!" Dean said surprised at the angel’s newfound ability to laugh.  
          "I'm so sorry,” Castiel said around chuckles, “that was funny." Finding a clip of silver bullets, Dean rammed it into his semiautomatic and loaded the first round.  
          "Stop screwing around Cas and zap me down there." The angel obliged him.  
          They appeared suddenly in the throes of battle like none Dean had ever seen. Around him hunters fought and thrashed against unseen foes. He could hear the droning sound of running and footfalls, watched the dust around him shift from movement, but the creatures that challenged them remained unseen. The sun was setting as well which meant that things would get even worse in about thirty minutes.  
          "Cas!" Dean breathed.  
          _I can see them, Dean,_ Cas whispered in his mind and suddenly Dean was seeing two visions of the same scene. The one his eyes showed him and the one Castiel saw. He pointed his gun to shoot and missed a small winged creature that turned with bared teeth to lunge at his ankles.  
          _A little help, Cas!_ Dean called out in his mind and Cas plunged a silver knife into the creature's back. The then turned and handed another one to Dean.  
          _Close your eyes and trust in me,_ Castiel mind sent and Dean obliged him. With one clear picture in play, he kept his eyes closed as he trashed at creatures around him. He defended hunters where he could but mostly hacked away at large swaths of their numbers. Winged creatures of all shapes and sizes assaulted him, and Dean spun in an endless circle to receive them. Some ran in spite of wings, but most flew which caused Dean to slash wildly at the air. Castiel fought to stay with Dean, fought to keep the image he projected in place as he clawed through the fairies with his own blades. Dean was amazed at how they continued to pour into the clearing from the woods and he suspected this was every single fairy folk from across the country if not more.  
          _How are we going to stop them from coming?_ Dean mind sent to Cas who was drifting further away from him in the battle. Dean's knife slashes did not receive as much purchase and his view became skewed. While the fairies were fairly easy to overcome, their numbers were overwhelming. Dean grew winded and he could feel the bastards taking bites or jabs out of him. He whirled frantically and stabbed at the air.  
          _Be still, Dean,_ Cas mind sent to him and suddenly his hands were on Dean healing both wounds and fatigue from the hunter. Dean gasped in the sudden mending.  
          _There are too many! Too many!_ Dean’s mind wailed in despair.  
          _I know,_ Cas said solemnly and images flashed through Dean’s mind, suggesting retreat.  
          Suddenly a creature just inches away from Dean appeared in a burst of flame that burned out only a split second later; carrying with it the fairies dying scream. Dean looked at Castiel, puzzled. Then another creature some distance away burst into flame, then another, and another. The two men, minds bound as one, stared in awe and horror as flames consumed the unseen creatures in droves.  
          _Father in heaven, this is Grace we are seeing. So much Grace killing so many things._ Hunters, scattered amongst the wreckage were spared as the fire waves moved past them and into the trees. The soft screams of so many dying creatures falling in unison might have impressed Dean in the past, but he could sense that the compounding loss of life left Castiel feeling utterly devastated which was a very sobering thing. They were witnessing the death of clans, of families, of entire species. All burned away in seconds of fire and soft tiny screams. Castiel fought against tears from the horror he was witnessing, and Dean could feel tears of his own slipping down the ashen grime of his face.  
          _Cas. This is a little too much, get out of my head, man._ The angel softly withdrew.  
         "Who did this?" Dean asked out loud, thinking it odd to hear his own voice again, and the bewildered hunters all turned to look his way. "Who could have possibly done this?”  
         "Dean." Came a calm voice from behind him and Dean whirled around. While it had been less than a week, it felt like a lifetime, and in an instant there he was. Sam. He stood larger than life, his Recurve casually gripped in his hand. Dean's eyes fell on the thing and an ice pick of fear stabbed down his spine.  
         "No!" Dean shouted and ran to his brother. "No, Sammy, no put it down!”  
          "Dean listen to me..."  
          "Sam it'll kill you! Cas spent hours healing your soul! Hours!” Dean faced off his brother and reached for his bow which Sam jerked out of reach.  
          "Dean if you would just listen..." but Dean was beyond listening. All that time Cas spent on Sam to repair what his brother did. The way it exhausted the angel but he did it anyway. For Dean. Always for Dean. And Sam repays him by throwing the whole pan of dishes out the window. His soul. What would happen to Sam’s newly repaired soul? Well he was going to stop this if he could and kick Eros’s ass for good measure.  
          "Sam, this ends now!" Dean lunged at Sam. He faintly heard Castiel calling to him from behind but all his attention was on his brother. He had to stop Sam from killing himself!  
          As though in a daze, Dean stared with eyes wide as his brother deftly took a step away from him, pulled back on his bow, and fired an arrow directly at Dean’s heart. Dean felt the impact of the spirit arrow, heard Cas screaming his name, then the world turned to blackness before his body even fell to the ash and the dust.

 

          "What did you do to him?" Castiel wailed as he stumbled over to where Dean laid between them.  
          "He's just asleep,” Sam said calmly as he examined his brother. He loved Dean more than anything, but the guy could be so hot headed sometimes. If he would have just calmed down enough to listen...  
          _That's Dean for ya,_ Gabriel chuckled in his head. _Man it's good to see the ol' blockhead again._  
          Sam leaned over and pulled at the arrow that binded Dean to sleep until it snapped in his hand. Castiel watched in amazement.  
          "That's... that's Grace. You’re actually touching Grace with your mortal hands." His eyes held Sam's gaze and the amazement took on a hint of fear. "How could you possibly be doing that?"  
          _Tell him, Sam! Tell him about me. I can’t wait to see the look on his face. Castiel the little lap dog. Following Dean around like the cowed pet he is. Pathetic angel._  
          No, Sam voiced in his mind and Gabriel deflated, seemingly hurt. _Gabe, you are my secret right now and, well for the time being I want you to stay a secret._ Calling him Gabe always seemed to perk up the angels spirits, validating his informal relationship with Sam, and he agreeably faded to the backdrop of Sam's consciousness. It had taken Sam a little bit of adjusting to come to terms with having to share his body and mind with the spirit of an angel, but their training seemed to have helped speed the process along. Castiel was studying him, expecting an answer. Dean's obedient little angel.  
          _“Castiel the little lap dog”,_ Gabriel’s words rung in his mind. Sam smiled at him warmly.  
          "Castiel, Dean will probably need an explanation when he wakes up. Can you reassure him my soul is intact?" Sam took a step forward, curling his hand into Castiel’s tie and jerking him close. He bent his head to speak softly at Castiel’s ear. "My soul is intact, is it not, little Castiel?" The angel closed his eyes, refusing to meet Sam's challenge. It was just as well.  
          After discovering the truth behind Castiel’s bond: that humans served angels but certain angels were bound to sentinel humans, Sam couldn't blame this particular angel for always putting Dean first. But it disgusted Sam to think that Castiel could deceive him into thinking that they were friends. He didn’t know why he didn’t see if before when it was all so very clear to him now. Angels only served their precious father, and the human they had the unfortunate obligation of being bound to.  
          Falling in love like he did, and dragging Dean into that mess with him, only made things complicated and confusing. Sam much preferred to think of Cas as a slave to the angelic ties of his duty, than to think he was actually capable of loving with free will.  
          "You will tell him," Sam tried again, his voice carrying warning, "that I am able to use the Recurve safely now." Castiel's eyes remained closed, refusing to acknowledge Sam's presence, but he nodded affirmation; the slightest movement of his head. In that instant, Castiel submitted ever so slightly to Sam as his superior. Sam would take it for now. He had plenty of time to show Castiel what his true place was. Reaching out, Sam gently patted the angel’s head.  
          "Good boy," he whispered in Castiel’s ear and then brushed past him to greet the other hunters.  
The moment he approached them, his Chosen were at his side. He smiled broadly at them and greeted each one in turn. Donna, Shawn, and Kim no longer thought of Eros as any type of leader. They follows Sam; took orders from Sam. With luck, soon all the hunters would do the same. Dean... he loved his brother, but Dean was too influenced by Castiel. His opinions were tainted. Sam fought only on the side of humanity.  
          "Tonight marks a great victory!” Sam cheered and the hunters cheered with him even though many didn't understand yet what had happened. "Tomorrow I want to take things one step further and go to the source. Cut the head off the snake. The vampire master showed me a witch named Serrath who carries a scepter of power. It is this scepter the commands her army. We take the scepter, we end the war." This definitely aroused attention as hunters turned and talked of this news with disbelief. Sam had no interest in letting them figure it out on their own. "I guarantee victory!" He shouted, “follow me, and we will end this war." Some of the hunters cheered, their excitement stirring them up.  
          "Are you with me?” They cheered.  
          "Are you with me?" They screamed.  
          Sam smiled, satisfied, and walked back to his town with his kinsmen. Tonight, they would party for many might not live past tomorrow.


	27. Chapter 27

          "Dean, we have to leave," Castiel said frantically. His hands pulled at the hunter's shirt, desperate for him to understand.  
          "Cas, how can Sam be touching angelic Grace? How is he not ripping a hole into his soul?"  
          "I...I don't know, " Cas admitted reluctantly. They were sitting on the familiar bed that they spent so many hours in over the past two days. Dean had finished packing the last of his things, and was preparing to load Baby up before the fight tomorrow. Outside hunters drank and shouted song lyrics at the night sky. Everything was happening so fast. Too fast.  
          Cas worried what would happen when Sam lifted his bow again. The destruction he could render… And the way he treated Cas. Like some sort of...pet...  
          "He had to have had help,” Cas said, chewing at his lower lip, “I don't know how, I don't know when but someone has been training him, Dean."  
          "Yeah, it's pretty incredible what he did," chuckled Dean, while he scratched at his head.  
          "He took thousands of lives!" Castiel shouted, suddenly horrified at his lovers casual approach to the situation. “Thousands! And it only took an instant. A few seconds and then gone. No human is meant to carry that kind of power."  
          "Cas, he's my brother. He's your friend," Dean said calmly. Castiel could only stare at the beautiful hunter who refused to ever give up on his brother even when the man shot an arrow into his heart. Cas felt as though an arrow was lodged in his own heart as well.  
          "Dean..."  
          "I'm not leaving him, Cas. I’m not.” Then, after a moment, “Will you stay here with me? Please?" Castiel closed his eyes as every hope inside him crumbled to dust.  
          "How could I possibly say no?" He admitted honestly, and looked again at Dean. The dread he was unable to keep off of his face; the pure terror of how much Sam was able to undo with what he knew, left Dean looking at Cas worried and confused.  
With Sam’s ability to use Grace, and to bend arrows in a way that challenged if not overruled the way angels used it, Castiel feared that with Sam’s unyielding soul energy he could destroy entire cities. Kill thousands of species. He could even kill Castiel; permanently wipe him from the earth. And his sudden demeaning way of acting toward Cas made him wonder if Sam might actually do it.  
          "I am going to ask Eros to leave,” Castiel said, turning away from Dean, “He is unsafe here. Sam might not want him around anymore and will look to have him removed from the playing field."  
          "Cas, you have to tell me what you’re thinking here. Sam would never-"  
          "He has unlimited angel Grace now, Dean,” Cas said, his voice quivering more than he would care to admit, “Channeled through a human with an infinite power resource of a soul. No one is safe anymore." Dean just stared at Cas blankly. He was either unwilling to argue the truth of it, or unwilling to believe his brother might have a different agenda than his own.  
          Dean didn’t see the way Sam looked at Cas. He didn’t see the coldness in his eyes. The calculated challenge set in his jaw. Something was making Sam turn on Castiel. He refused to believe that the true Sam, with his large heart, would suddenly treat Cas in such a way on his own accord.  
          "I will be back in just a moment," Castiel said. Dean opened his mouth to speak but Cas space shifted before he could to where his little brother sat by the outside fire. "Eros we must speak," Castiel offered. Eros got to his feet, confused, but Cas shifted them a mile away from the town and its hunters before he could respond.  
          "Isn't it more polite to ask before you jerked me all over the place?" Eros said flatly, and his eyes slid away from Castiel’s face.  
          "Eros, Sam used angel Grace to eliminate over a thousand live beings only a few hours ago. I don't have time for pleasantries." Eros winced.  
          "Yea... I saw that," he said in a small voice and Castiel wondered where the angel was when the battle took place.  
          "So how is it even possible?" Cas asked through his teeth. He saw something in Eros’s expression. The way he looked up at Cas momentarily and then dropped his gaze away as though he didn’t want to meet the older angel’s eyes. Cas grabbed the smaller angel and yanked him close, and Eros squawked in surprise. “He had to have gotten help, Eros. What do you know? Care to explain?"  
          "Wh-what do you think I did this?" Eros looked incredulous, but also uneasy. Slowly, Cas let the boy go.  
          "No, but I think you know something you're not excited to share." Eros took a step back, eyes shifting again, but Castiel's angel sword pressed against his throat before Eros had a chance to space shift away.  
          "Castiel...brother..."  
          "What do you know?" Castiel shouted in the boy’s face and Eros cringed.  
          "Please brother...I didn't know this would happen. You have to believe me!"  
          "Tell me what you did!" Castiel demanded, his eyes a blaze of blue, and Eros started to cry.  
          "Castiel please...I was just so excited. To find a Marksman like our little sister...I had to make him a bow. A new bow, not that first model stuff. It had to be really special, brother."  
          "Why?" Cas growled.  
          "Because I wanted to see what would happen!" Eros cried, showing every bit his age. "Because this is the most fun I've had in a century. Look at all I have learned! Look at all the discovery!"  
          "And why is this bow so special? What has this Recurve done to Sam?"  
          "It's the making of the bow, you see. They are powerful angelic artifacts. Simple magic or human sacrifices just can't be enough to bend such power like this."  
          Eros...what did you do?"  
          "I used the spirits of slain angels, Castiel. Their energy would have been wasted off in some other way, so it didn't do much harm. They aren't conscious beings anymore."  
          "If that is the case, what is wrong? How is this different?" Castiel asked, and pulled his sword away for the angel’s neck. Eros blinked at his tears, looking up at Castiel; eyes pleading.  
          "I used... an archangel."  
          "What?" Castiel exclaimed and stepped away from his brother shocked. He might as well have said he just decided to go grave robbing and ended up blowing up the cemetery instead.  
          "I didn't know this would happen!" Eros wailed. His small hands clamped into tiny fists that he wrung in front of him; begging Cas to understand. .  
          "Shit balls," Cas cursed, sampling Deans choice of expletives. "If anyone in heaven finds out about this..."  
          "I know, I know," Eros said miserably. "and…I think it gets worse."  
          "How could it possibly get worse?"  
          "I wasn’t on the battle field because I was watching Sam. I saw when he got up and I followed him when he went out to fight. I watched Sam put his brother to sleep. He bent the arrow so intricately, it resembles the same magic weave we use with our Grace."  
          "I know that Eros-"  
          "Well he didn't learn it on his own, Castiel! The bow…they have to be communicating with each other!"  
          "No..." Castiel whispered.  
          "Castiel... brother...The angel spirits are not supposed to do that after I forge them into a weapon. They are lifeless. Dead. There has to be a connection far greater than what is normal. It’s the only thing that makes sense. I didn't have any idea, I swear."  
          "Eros. Are you trying to tell me…"  
          "Brother, please forgive me!"  
          "…they are Soul-bound to each other?" Eros slumped, looking utterly defeated. There was no way of knowing without asking the angel in question. Only the angel themselves know the soul they are bound to, and being a very vulnerable disadvantage, most angels didn't share that information. Eros couldn't have known...could he?  
          "Who is the angel, Eros?" The boy angel scrubbed at the tears on his face.  
          "Castiel you must understand, I couldn't have predicted this. I can’t believe how strong he has become! I just knew I needed an angel recently slain and because of you, there were so many to choose from. It was a random chance, an accident! I'm so sorry Castiel!"  
          Castiel pulled the boy into his arms and hugged him close. Gently he wrapped Eros in soft blankets of Grace. Yes. Eros could not have possibly known any of this would happen, but Cas wasn't so sure the Winchester's would agree. He was fond of his younger brother, which was more than he could say of most of the angels he knew, and he didn't want anything to happen to him. He would have to send the boy away to some place safe until he could deal with the situation at hand. Some place Sam would never find him. Some place far in case Sam destroyed half of the country on a whim.  
          "Eros," he said again as he held the stricken boy, “who is the angel you used?"  
          Eros sniffed and scrubbed at the last of his tears. "Gabriel," he whispered and Cas bit his lip to keep from crying himself. _Oh, Eros. What have you done?_

         

          Sam pulled away from the group at the fire and said his good night's before finding his bed. He knew that Serrath was somewhere close, but suspected she was bringing the fight to him. That group of fairies was a test to see how resilient the hunters were. It was a shame that so many had to die to prove a point, but Sam did not place their blood on his hands. Sam thought about the information Ultrad, the master vampire, had revealed to him.  
          The scepter that Serrath carried was a fulcrum of its own. It influenced the mind, and forced these creatures to do as Serrath willed. If Sam could get his hands on such a weapon, he could force all monsters to stop taking human life. He could rally them against heaven and hell to get both angels and demons off this planet and away from humans. Sam could bring an end to all fighting with the supernatural and actually have a normal life for a change. At least, this was his plan to start. It was a work in progress.  
          Reaching his bedroom, Sam stripped off his clothing and ran a hot shower. He needed something that night, and he thought looking good would help him get it. It would do no good if he still looked like he hadn't showered all week.  
          Once he was clean and shaven, he slipped on fresh underwear and sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed. Sam closed his eyes and entered the void. Never before had his soul felt so strong and encompassing as he fell into it. He would have to thank Castiel for all the effort he put into the repair. Although the gratitude would be reluctant. He suspected the effort was to help burn off all the excess Grace he had cascading through his body after feeding on Sam's brother like the parasite he was. He could see the soul strands siphoning out of the one and into the other when they fought the fairies on the battlefield. The thought made Sam sick to his stomach.  
          "Sammy, boy. You made it back!" Sam opened his eyes and found he was in the familiar strip club that Gabriel liked to think of as his home away from home. "And looking quite stunning too, pretty boy," the angel said appreciatively. Sam looked down and noticed he was wearing nothing but his underwear and quickly set his mind to believe himself in clothing. Gabe would assume it was a slip up, but Sam was simply sweetening the pot. He realized now that, for whatever reason, being Soul-bound to a human can cause an angel to manifest… physical appreciations of their human companions. Sam was not so easily influenced to let these desires affect him the way they did Dean, but he was certainly not above using them as an advantage.  
          "Gabe, I need to track Serrath. Can you pinpoint her location for me?" The angel offered Sam a seat in the same corner booth and Sam obliged him. He waived for the waitress to bring Sam a drink as well which Sam accepted politely but did not sip. Then the angel gave him a warm smile and wordlessly held out his hand. Sam took it.  
          The contact between them allowed Grace to flood into him. Sam yearned to unleash its fury in mountains of scorching flame, but knew that any use of Grace on such a grand scale while submerged in his soul would be impossible to control and might even kill him. Carefully, he sent out tendrils of Grace in a probe of the area. His consciousness lifted into the clouds and Sam examined the radius around Rexpoint.  
          It took no time at all to locate the large black swath that made up the monster encampment. Sam examined the terrain leading up to the encampment and noticed that it nestled against a mountain summit that dropped directly into the throng. It could be used as a defense for flanking, but it also left the monsters at a disadvantage for surprise assaults.  
          The simple strategy for an attack left Sam uneasy. He wondered if this might be an elaborate trap, or Serrath was prideful and didn’t expect him to come to her. Whatever the case, it wasn’t going to change anything.  
          Sam noticed Gabe was lazily trailing his thumb over the back of Sam's hand, but he let it be. Let the angel pretend to be smitten, Sam only needed him lustful. He seemed to forget they shared the same mind and Sam was aware of everything the angel was thinking.  
          "I need to rest now, Gabriel. Our battle will be tomorrow," Sam said, satisfied with his inspection, and Gabriel withdrew his hand. Turning to face him, Gabe gave Sam a genuine smile.  
          "It was good to see you again," he said and Sam lifted his gaze to meet with his soul-bounds wide hazel eyes. How much of his words and actions were a game and how much of them were real? Sam was willing to play the game; beat the trickster at it if he could, but sometimes when Gabriel spoke to him, he sounded genuinely…fond. Hesitantly, Sam smiled as well. He would like to have an ally even if it was just an angel in his mind.  
          Getting to his feet, Sam left the place in his mind.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28 

Dean skulked past another group of hunters looking for his brother. They waved at him and he returned the gesture casually, but he knew the balance was tipped in Sam's favor for their leader. That was fine by Dean; he and Sammy would still do it together. If he could find Sammy that is. 

Dean circled the town from one end to the next before giving up and sitting on a stoop in the middle of the town square to watch the hunters prep ammunition. Word was that they needed to be ready for everything since anything could come at them. Dean already had his Colt tucked away, and the silver knife Cas had given him the night before. 

Dean turned and jumped when he realized Cas was sitting next to him. The angel had been gone all morning and Dean felt that familiar tug at his heart to have Cas next to him again. 

_How did it go?_ He mind sent to his lover. 

_Eros is safe. I only wish you and I were too._ Fear and unease coursed through the mental bond between them. He couldn't begin to understand what changed to have Cas suddenly so afraid of Sam but Dean suspected he was behind it somehow. Off in the distance, Dean finally caught sight of his brother. 

"Sammy!" He called out, and sprang to his feet. Sam turned to him and then made his way across the clearing. They met with a quick embrace, both brothers smiling at the other. 

"It's good to see you up and about again, Sam," Dean said jovially, "so what's the plan?" Sam tilted his head a little to the left and his eyes faded to a point in the distance for a moment, but then was back again an instant later. 

"Yes. This is what I think..." he trailed off as his attention shifted behind Dean to where Cas was approaching them. 

"Hello Sam," the angel said softly. Dean sensed how wary Cas was through the bond, and detected a subtle tremor in the angel's voice. 

"Castiel," Sam said dryly. "Hey, sorry about last night. I was just having a bit of a bad day if you know what I mean. " 

"No no, it’s okay,” Castiel said ducking his head; not meeting the other man's eye. Dean explored all the emotions welling through the angel and decided this would definitely be something they needed to talk about later. Dean also noticed the edge to Sam's apology. His brother was a horrible liar. 

"So!" Sam went on, “The plan. About two miles west of here, there’s a large field clearing. That's where Serrath is camped. I am hoping we can sneak in unnoticed, but that might not be an option. She might know we are coming." 

"Why do you think that?" Dean asked, and Sam tilted his head to the left again. His eyes faded for just an instant as if he was... listening for something? Dean couldn't be sure. Fear bubbled to the surface of Castiel's emotion cauldron and Dean pushed the angel to the back of his mind. The more time they spent around each other, the harder it was becoming to shut this Vulcan mind-meld thing off. 

"Just trust me," Sam said after a pause. "Anyway she has this scepter and I think that’s what gives her all her power. It’s why all the monsters want to follow her." 

"Okay sure, so we destroy the scepter and the monsters will go back to fending for themselves?" Dean wasn’t sure how Sam knew all this, but he trusted his brother. If Sam had a plan, Dean was going to follow it. 

"I'm not sure we'll be able to destroy it. But getting it away from that witch would be a good first step." 

"Well that's just great," Dean said sarcastically, "and how do you suppose we get past the hordes of monsters to reach her?" 

"You saw what I can do," Sam said calmly and Dean suppressed a wince. He glanced at Cas, remembering how so many deaths affected the angel. 

"If they are only attacking us because of mind control, shouldn’t we avoid killing them?" 

"Dean they’re monsters." 

"Innocent monsters," Dean challenged, his eyes going wide and suggestive. Sam watched him flatly. 

"I think maybe I can just put them to sleep like I... like I did with you," Sam said with a sigh. "It will take longer, and I'll need you and the hunters to cover my back." 

"That's fine," Dean said nodding, “we can do that. Cas can too. When do we move out?" The plan was set to hike on foot since the terrain was unpaved, and circle around the encampment so they could get the jump on the monsters. Sam thought he could pick off as much as he could from the higher terrain, and then sift into the throng and find Serrath. With the hunters prepping to move out of town after the fight, they made a plan to leave in two hours. This gave Dean plenty of time to figure out what the hell was going on with Cas. 

Parting ways with Sam, Dean turned and walked towards his car. He sensed Castiel following, as he expected him to, but shoved at the angel’s emotions; trying to get them out of his head. 

"This is very dangerous, Dean," Cas said softly behind him. Reaching his vehicle, Dean checked the trunk and put the rest of his things in Baby's backseat. With hope, things would end that day and everyone can go back to normal hunting for a change. 

"Yeah hard to believe we started out wanting to just take out a couple of ghouls and jacked up vetala." Cas stood and watched Dean at work, looking miserably forlorn. Dean met the angel's eyes, concern painting his features. 

"Cas..." 

“I can’t talk about this, Dean,” Cas said in a low voice. “Not now.” Dean’s mouth twisted over words he wanted to say and he turned away from the other man. They were quiet for some time. 

"I wonder," Cas said while he studied the other hunters at work, "back when we were just fighting ‘jacked up vetala’ as you said, why did they try so hard to get your father's journal?" Dean could still sense all the convoluted emotions swirling in Cas’s mind, and it frustrated him that Cas wouldn’t talk to him about it, but he had a good point. 

"Do you think there might be something in there that would help us get rid of this witch?" 

"It's worth looking into," Cas admitted, “I could spend some time with it, while you are getting ready.” Dean reached for the journal out of the trunk of his car and handed it to Cas. If they weren’t going to talk about what was happening with him and Sam, then Dean thought it was better for Cas to be out of his line of sight for a while. The secrecy irritated him. 

"Don't lose it." 

"Of course not!” Cas was offended 

"Cas...We will talk about what's going on with you and Sammy," Dean said and then leaned over and kissed Cas long and deep. Lips parted, tongues played, and in that sweet sensual moment neither man belonged to any heart but each other’s. When Dean pulled away, both he and Cas were breathless and flushed. 

"I know," Cas said, his voice unsteady, “I'll tell you everything when this is over." Dean nodded and Cas vanished with the flap of a wing. 

They moved in a fluid silent motion. Hunters with years of skill behind them knew how to move undetected and working together was no different. The sun was moving its last stretch down the sky, and the Fist snaked in front of the Chosen to scout out the terrain. Oddly, they didn’t encounter any look-outs, which solidified that Serrath was anticipating them. Or she was incredibly stupid. Sam didn’t care either way. They circled around where Sam knew the encampment to be and edged closer to the mountain. When they got close enough to see it on the horizon, Sam brought everyone to a halt and had the group huddle around him. 

“When we reach the mountain ridge,” Sam said, eyeing the target in the distance, “I’ll try to get a better look at what we’re up against. If things turn ugly, the Fist need to fend off as many monsters as they can so the Chosen can keep shooting arrows.” 

"And what about me," Dean asked, "am I also on backdrop duty?" 

"No," said Sam with a smile, “I want you with me. My last line of defense." 

“Cas, too, right?” Dean asked and Sam’s mouth twisted into a frown. 

“Of course,” he said dryly. Dean nodded once and gave his brother a hug. He then moved through the line of hunters to stand at the front where Sam would be. Castiel watched Dean go, and yet he lingered. 

"Move along, Cas," Sam said with a smirk. Castiel's eyes remained on Sam, just a hair away from direct eye contact. Sam’s smile widened, and he leaned close to the angel so that no one else could hear him. 

"Something wrong, pet?" He asked mockingly. Cas lifted his eyes that last half inch to glare directly into Sams. Sam could see the angel’s Grace flame the blue of his eyes to enhance the glow of his fury. 

"When this is over," Cas said rigidly, "I am telling Dean everything about you. It changes nothing, Sam. He will still love me." Sam's smile turned into a sneer. He stepped in close and yanked Castiel towards him by his tie. 

"You better hope you're wrong angel," he seethed, and Castiel felt hot breath on his ear. Cas reached out suddenly and rested hands on Sam's head. 

"Don't touch me!" Sam shouted, trying to recoil, but already Castiel was withdrawing his reach. 

"Cas? What's going on?” Dean called, unable to see the whole interaction, and Cas smiled at Sam as he walked past him. 

"Stay safe out there," he said softly to the younger brother which gave Sam an idea. 

"Yeah, you do the same." Accidents can happen after all. 


	29. Chapter 29

The things that he did in heaven; the wars he fought and the lives he took, were all because of Dean. Dean's heart and his reckless determination to do what was right; what he held in the sake of freedom were what inspired Castiel so many times to rise up and rally his forces against Raphael. He did it because the alternative would have the world laid asunder, and Dean cast down to a place Castiel could not reach. He could not stand in the face of heaven’s judgement and accept that he would never see Dean's smile again. Or hear his laugh. Or look into his eyes. He could not imagine a life where he was unable to be close to Dean; to touch him; to love him freely. And now, standing next to the man, preparing to fight countless foes in the inevitable massacre before them, Castiel said a silent prayer hoping that Dean would find the same strength from being next to him as well. 

"Ready, Cas?" Dean asked and Cas sent an array of images to his lover. Symbols of warmth, affection, fear, and longing. Those things that Cas was feeling because he couldn't protect Dean here. It was Dean's wish that Cas protect Sam instead. 

_I know, I love you too,_ Cas heard Dean’s raspy voice say in his mind, and his heart bloomed with the words the hunter couldn't say out loud. He reached over and gave Dean’s hand a quick squeeze before shifting his focus to the area around them. They seemed to have made it to the mountain ridge undetected. Wonder of wonders that was, and Castiel was convinced now more than ever that this was a terrible trap. Below them, the monster encampment stretched out of sight. Thousands upon thousands of monsters huddled in mud huts and low tents looking ever the army that no hunter originally believed them capable of. The sight was horrifying; like the cusp of Armageddon all over again. 

At the very edge of the mountain, looking down into the face of oblivion, stood Sam. Confident and brazen and powerful. Castiel smiled to himself a little seeing how far the younger brother had come. Touching him earlier, Castiel allowed himself the brief invasion of exploring Sam’s soul without his permission. He went to that shadowed place he acknowledged before and probed at it. Castiel suspected this was where Gabriel set up his own little domain and he wanted to know how much that influenced Sam. In that brief instant of contact, he couldn’t see much, but he could see enough to know that there was a barb tucked into Sam’s soul. One that very clearly influenced his feelings towards Castiel. 

For whatever reason, Gabriel wanted Sam to hate Castiel. It didn’t matter. Cas will be able to easily remove the barb when this battle was over and Sam would go back to being Sam again. More importantly, Castiel could go back to being his friend. He hated the tension between them now. The simple fix was necessary. Especially for Dean’s sake. 

Sam turned to face them. “Everyone be ready, I will start the assault but it won’t take long before they figure out what is going on and where it is coming from. I will take out as many as I can, but the only way we will survive this is by keeping them off of this mountain. No matter what you do, do not let them up here.” 

“Just try to knock them out Sammy, not kill them,” Dean reminded as he glanced over at Castiel, and Sam rolled his eyes; obviously annoyed. 

“Yeah, Dean. I know. I get it.” Turning back to the encampment below, Sam lifted his Recurve, and the Fist and Chosen alike stood ready for anything. Tilting his bow towards the sky, Sam lifted his head and closed his eyes. Suddenly his body was filled with Grace. It was not like anything Castiel had seen before. It was more Grace then he knew could exist in one place. He didn’t understand why Sam’s body didn’t burn from the intensity of it. It was terrifying and awe inspiring all at once. 

Sam’s breath was steady as he pulled back on the invisible string of his bow. In an instant, the Recurve erupted in a spray of arrows. Hundreds of wisps of light ejected from it only to bend in the air and reform into a weave that Castiel recognized as the one woven from Grace to render beings unconscious. The entire process was utterly astounding. 

With the weave complete the arrows rained down on the creatures below. Without thought, Cas projected the vision to Dean who would be unable to see it with his naked eyes, and Dean gasped from the sight of it. The camp lit up like a city skyline in the dimming afternoon. His angelic eyes could pick out individual creatures stumbling and falling into unconsciousness while others rose to their feet trying to figure out what was going on. 

Castiel attempted to bend strands of Grace the way he witnessed Sam doing it, and he was able to spear a few monsters of his own, rendering them unconscious, but he barely held a candle to Sam’s flame. Through his efforts, Sam had already sent two more volleys of arrows against the army and for a brief moment, Castiel wondered if they could remedy this problem without bloodshed. Then the monsters caught sight of them on the mountain. 

Monsters sprang to action and ran towards a swooping path that scaled the length of the mountain ridge. Noticing the path they climbed, Cas shifted his attention and plunged spears of Grace into the rock wall to tumble large boulders across the area in front of them. It would not stop them, but certainly slow them down. The Chosen moved to the edge and worked their own spirit arrows, one at a time, into the monsters scaling up the path at supernatural speeds. 

“I can sense her,” Sam said absently beside Castiel, and the angel studied his vacant expression. “Serrath. I can sense that she is doing something…she’s…” Suddenly, a black cloud boiled out of the middle of the camp and shot up towards the sky. It looked like the vile consistency of demon spirit but magnified tenfold. In mere moments, the sky was blacked out by the smoke and shrouded the area in darkness. Castiel didn’t understand. Why did Serrath go to such lengths to turn the afternoon to night? 

Then the world around them erupted as night creatures broke free from the earth and charged at them. Hundreds of vampires, lycan, and undead amassed all around the mountain ridge, poised and ready to attack. This must have been the trap intended to flank the hunters and bring a quick end to the assault. Some of the creatures rose right amidst their ranks and tore into members of the Fist as they were trying to redirect their attention. 

One vampire lunged past the group and ran straight for Sam. Castiel was ready for him, willing to melt the bastards face with his Grace, but the vampire pivoted at the last instant. In that brief moment, Castiel was terrified that the creature was going to lay in to Dean, but instead he lunged at the group of Chosen and sank his teeth into Donna’s neck. 

“No!” Shawn cried and plunged an arrow into the Vampires back. Sam didn’t flinch. Again and again he rained arrows down and hundreds of monsters dropped to the ground. Thousands remained. 

“This needs to go faster, Sam,” Dean said urgently. Cas glanced behind them and could see hunters being overwhelmed with the number of flanking monsters assaulting them. 

“It would,” Sam bit through his teeth, “if I was allowed to actually kill them.” Dean studied his brother for a moment, and then he turned to look at Castiel. Castiel turned away. Dean knew how he was feeling. He didn’t want to look him in the eye and say it. 

“Do it,” he heard Dean say softly, and Sam stepped closer to the mountain’s edge. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; letting it out slowly. He lifted his Recurve, and deftly pulled against the invisible string. If Cas hadn't seen it, he would never have believed the amount if Grace that erupted from the bow. Sam was stronger than him. Stronger than Michael. Heaven help him, Sam may even be stronger than God. 

How any of this was possible, he could not begin to understand, but as the monsters around him burst into flame, it was Gabriel's face Cas saw in the fire. In an instant, the creature's that struggled to reach them were all gone. Thousands destroyed in a heartbeat. The area grew eerily silent as monsters further down the mountain tried to make sense of what just happened in front of them. Smiling slightly, Sam turned and looked at his brother. 

“Piece of cake,” he said with a chuckle. Suddenly, Sam cried out and doubled over to cough blood through clenched teeth. He clutched at his stomach, his face twisted in pain. 

"Sam!" Dean shouted and he went to help his brother to the ground. 

"It's the witch, Serrath," Castiel said urgently, "she is using magic on him." Sam writhed under the assault. 

"Do something!" Dean pleaded at him, "Stop this, please!" Castiel glanced at Donna. Everything was happening so quickly, but if he could reach her, he could heal her. “Cas!” Castiel looked to Dean and their eyes met. Blue to green; speaking volumes. _Please, you have to save my brother. Nothing else matters. You have to save him now!_

Castiel space shifted to the encampment below. He did not let himself become visible to those around him, but even going unseen, some of the monsters paused in their rush up the mountainside to look his way. Castiel searched around him at the lifeforms and pinpointed the one he wanted. Space shifting once more, he appeared in a low tent that was lit by dim lanterns. Carpets decorated the floor and pillows stacked in the corners, but the room appeared vacant. This didn’t make sense. He could sense that Serrath was in this room. He should be able to see past any type of spell she was casting… 

“Fighting his battles,” hissed a low voice. It sounded like rustling leaves on a bitter night wind, and Castiel whirled to see the brush of movement escape into a shadowed corner. He dashed to where he last saw her, but she had vanished from the room. Her presence was gone as well. He could feel her in the distance, close but too far to be among her people… _the mountain!_ Castiel shifted again, desperate to reach her. 

Seconds had past and he materialized next to where he had been only to find the scene around him much different than before. A shadow of movement cut away at hunters and Chosen alike. Donna, already struggling with a loss of blood, now lay lifeless with blood seeping from her eyes, and her mouth. Shawn, laying next to her, choked on the blood pooling in his lungs. Castiel leaned over and healed him quickly, correcting what was bent inside him. A few feet away, Kim struggled to her feet with a gash oozing blood at her hairline. Castiel moved to heal her too. 

“Cas!” Dean called out and Castiel turned to see a dark shadow clouding over Sam. As soon as it reached him, Sam screamed in pain. How had she gotten there so quickly? This was far beyond any magic that Castiel had seen before. He shifted towards her, hoping to catch her off guard, but the shadow sensed him instantly, and red eyes turned to meet his. The gaze mortified him. To his very bones. And Cas found himself unable to react. 

Castiel watched as the shadow lifted a misty arm, and with a flash of red light, a long shaft with a balled end appeared in her hand. The scepter. Not knowing what to do; not knowing how to break the spell that had him frozen in place; not knowing how to defeat the witch, Castiel could only watch. _Dean! I’m so sorry, Dean._

Then Sam rolled onto his side, and in spite of his pain, was able to lift his Recurve and fire a shot at the scepter. The Grace weaved into a binding spell and snapped around the length of the rod. Castiel watched amazed; studying the way the binding spell worked. An instant later, the thing winked out of sight. 

With the scepter gone, some of the monsters cresting the hill stopped their assent and looked around confused. The fear that binded Castiel in place, melted away as well. Serrath snarled, dead leaves crumbling, and plunged misty fingers into Sam’s chest. Sam screamed even louder. Castiel stumbled towards them, feeling clumsy on numb legs, but Dean was already there. The hunter pulled out his Colt and fired it into the mist that was Serrath. The mist seemed to expand around the bullet, and it passed through the body without effect. 

Serrath turned to Dean and hissed “try harder,” then enhanced her efforts to harm Sam. Sam screamed and scrambled to position his Recurve again. The witch shifted and drove a spike of smoke into Sam’s arm, pinning it to the ground. Castiel, feeling that he would be unable to get close enough to the witch, turned and reached for Kim instead. Healing hands mended the wound in her head, and Castiel pulled Kim to her feet. 

“Kim!” Castiel breathed, “Shoot the witch. Shoot Serrath, now!” Some of the monsters Monsters started to crest the mountain ridge again. A few turned towards the hunters while others pulled at Serrath but the witch was unrelenting. Kim looked at Castiel with pure horror in her eyes and for a moment he didn’t think she would be able to do it. Then Kim lifted her Recurve and aimed it at the mist. “Don’t shoot Dean,” Castiel whispered in her ear urgently just as Kim released her string, and plunged an arrow into Serrath’s side. 

“I did it!” She called out, and her face lit up delighted. The arrow lodged, suspended in smoke, and Serrath screamed as she twisted towards Kim. 

“I don’t understand…” Kim said hollowly. Serrath shifted off of Sam and then seemed to dissolve into the ground. 

“…it’s angel fire, it’s supposed to kill her.” Serrath appeared again, in the blink of an eye; next to where Kim stood, and plunged spears of black shadow into her heart. Kim screamed and Castiel placed his hands on her. He desperately tried to heal the havoc that Serrath tore into Kim. Kim howled between them. The stronger he tried to heal her, the more Serrath tore her apart until he realized he was only prolonging her pain. Her body was being ripped open only to heal and be ripped open again. Sadly, he let her go, and Serrath took her life. 

Kim fell to the ground and the witch slipped into the earth with her. Castiel reached out to sense where the witch was, and realized that she was gone. Her spirit evaporated into the night just as her body did. Castiel scrambled to his feet and stumbled towards Sam. He was exhausted from the healing he attempted on Kim but he needed to help Dean’s little brother. 

The few monsters that remained seemed scattered and disorganized. The hunters had gained the advantage and many were already fleeing into the night. 

Castiel could see Sam twisting on the ground and shifted to reach him. Beside him Dean was urgently telling Sam to pull it together. That he was okay and he needed to get up and run. Hell, they all did before whatever that thing was came back and did them in. Castiel reached Sam’s side and he exchanged a glance with Dean. 

“Sam. I’m here. Please let me help-“ 

Before Cas could say another word, Sam turned and fired an arrow of Grace into him. Castiel swerved from the shock and his eyes met Deans: confusion exchanged with horror, as Castiel buckled and fell hard to the ground. 


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30 

“Sam!” Castiel could hear Dean screaming. His voice was desperate, terrified, and every inch of Cas pushed for him to go to Dean. He wanted to help him and soothe him. Castiel strained to move his body but it was like stone. 

“Dean…I’m sorry. I thought he was a monster…I didn’t realize.” 

“Cas!” Dean’s hands were on him and Castiel strained to open his eyes, “What did you do to him?” 

“Dean. Calm down, I’ll…I’ll fix it but first we have to get out of here! That witch wants me dead!” Sounds of shouting and fighting were alive all around him. 

“I’ll carry him,” Dean said, a tremor still in his voice. “Just…get everyone together. We have to move!” Cas could feel arms lifting him, and hear Dean straining to carry him. His wings couldn’t help him this time. Even as Dean carried him, Castiel tried to break whatever bonds held him hostage. His mind was reeling. Sam had shot him! He was certain Sam had done it on purpose! Dean said it before and he was right: Sam was a horrible liar. 

Dean carried Cas off of the ridge, but then some of the other hunters had to help him. They ran as fast as they could, picking off monsters that tried to interfere, but most of the creatures wanted to just get through them as they disbanded into the night. Sam did most of the damage, seeming none worse for the wear in spite of the spirit spearing he got from big black and nasty back there. Dean glanced at his brother, running beside him, and frowned. 

“Ok, we need to stop!” Dean announced and the hunters slowed to a stop around him. They all panted to catch their breaths having been running for the past mile, and some of the hunters dropped heavy loads to the ground. Those friends and comrades that didn’t make it. 

“Burn them,” Dean commanded, “give them a proper hunter’s funeral.” Dean’s eyes didn’t leave Sam. His younger brother seemed hardly winded from the run and stood a few paces away from the rest, head tilted to the side. Dean went to approach Sam, to have him undo whatever he did with Cas, but his eye caught one of the hunters lowering a small bundle and he paused. 

“Wait,” Dean called out and the hunter turned to face him. Dean went and pulled back the curly locks to look at Kim’s face. Her eyes, looking blankly back at him, reminded him yet again of that hollow place inside him where all those he loved ended up going. Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Charlie, Dad…so many. Too many. Would Cas be next to add to the list? Dean closed Kim’s eyes, and patted the hunter on his back; sending him off. He went to his brother. 

“Dean,” Sam breathed when Dean touched his shoulder. 

“Fix him, Sam.” Dean’s voice was hard. 

“Yes, Dean. I know, but there’s things that you need to know first.” 

“Now, Sam!” Dean yelled, and Sam stared at his brother. He looked surprised, and just a bit hurt, but Dean had enough of the game that the two of them were playing. Dean tried to control his temper. He tried to be patient with Cas. He knew his brother, and yelling at him would only make Sam dig his heels in. But enough was enough! He hated that stupid Recurve and all its fucking arrows. “Look, I don’t know what is going on with you two, but I can’t keep carrying Cas all the way back to the car. You have to fix this. Please.” 

“Dean, you don’t know what he is. You don’t know what he’s about-“ 

“I know all I need to know, Sam, and anything else that needs telling, Cas will tell me,” Dean said flatly. His brother looked as though he wanted to say something more, but the words fell away and he just stared at Dean while concern worked at his jaw. After a moment, Sam relented. Dean knew he would. He had to. Because in spite of everything, he would always be Dean’s little brother. Sam walked to where Castiel laid on the ground. Leaning over, he pulled at something Dean could not see, and Castiel immediately began to move again. 

“Thank you,” Dean said softly, and Sam nodded at him warily. In a sudden blur of movement, Castiel reached out into the air and Serrath’s scepter appeared in his hand. 

“No!” Sam said, grabbing Cas’s arm. 

"Effugio obscurum," Castiel chanted in Latin, and a sudden assault of black smoke bellowed out of the scepter. It tangled around Sam and Dean and swirled into the night until eventually all that remained was the after image against the sky. 

“No!” Sam shouted. He grabbed at the scepter, and Castiel released it willingly to the brother. Dean watched as Sam studied the scepter. The last of the black smoke fell from its cracks and dissolved into the earth. "What did you do?" Sam asked softly. Castiel lowered his head, refusing to meet Sam's eye. 

"Sam, that looked like a demon coming out of there," Dean said but Sam didn’t acknowledge his brother. Instead he glared at Castiel. Bending over, he put the ball of the scepter under Cas's chin, forcing his head up to look into Sam’s eyes. 

"Castiel," he growled through his teeth, "what did you do, you useless pet?" 

"Sam... wait a second..." said Dean uneasily. He took a step towards them, but didn’t know what to do. What was going on between them? Why was Sam acting this way? 

"What did you do?" Sam shouted and he swung the scepter back before bringing it full force against Castiel’s skull. The angel collapsed under the assault, and the pain he was unable to ignore was sent in ripples to Dean’s mind. Dean reached out to grab Sam, but his brother dropped the scepter and turned so quickly to shoot his Recurve that Dean hardly blinked let alone responded. His limbs went stiff and he instantly collapsed to the ground like Castiel had before. Except he could move his head, and he could still see. What he saw, he didn’t understand. Staring up at Sam, Dean was overcome with disbelief. Not my brother. This is not my brother. 

“Sam! …w-why are you doing this?” Dean cried out and when Sam met his eyes, Dean could see behind his anger that Sam was lost and confused inside. 

Turning back to Castiel, Sam picked up the scepter once more. “Sam!” Dean called out again, but his brother didn’t look back. He raised the scepter, and brought it down on Castiel’s back. Cas rolled on his side, pulled himself into a ball, and lifted his head so that his eyes met with Deans. Sam hit him again. _Whack!_

“Sam, please…stop doing this,” Dean pleaded as he stared at Castiel. _Whack!_

“Sam! Stop it! Don’t hurt him!” He could feel Castiel’s pain. His hurt and his determination not to lash out and hurt Sam back even though he easily could. _Whack!_

“Sam! Stop it! Stop it now!” Dean couldn’t breathe. He was beside himself, and yet even now Cas was trying to send him images. Calming him, soothing him, assuring him that everything would be ok. _Whack!_

“He made me do this, Dean,” Sam called over his shoulder and his voice was calm and steady. “This mutt of yours ruined everything!” He shouted the last word, biting at the syllables with spit and teeth. _Whack!_

“Sam…I don’t understand. What happened? What was in that scepter?” Hot tears spilled over Dean’s face and he strained to break free from whatever held him. If he could just reach his brother, get between the two of them and get him to stop hurting Cas…he just needed to make sense of everything that was happening. 

“I am so sick of this, Dean!” Sam shouted and turned to look at his brother. Dean tried not to look at the blood sprayed across Sam’s face. “It’s always hunt or be hunted. Hunt or be hunted. Aren’t you sick of it?” Sam turned back and swung a kick squarely into Castiel’s ribs. “Then this…this fucking angel!” The scepter swung again, cracking against a bone in Castiel’s shoulder. “What does he do? He betrays us again, Dean! Again!” _Whack! Whack! Whack!_ The beating seemed to never end. The scepter, dented and tarnished, was unrelenting.   
“Sammy, please! Can’t we just talk about this! Stop hitting, him!” 

“No, see that’s the point, Dean. ‘Cause for whatever reason, you are under some sort of angel love spell, and you won’t listen to me. You won’t see this thing for what he really is. This little shit-“ _Whack!_

“The scepter was supposed to stop all of this. Stop the war!” _Whack!_ Dean felt like he was going to lose it. His mind was spinning out of control. He felt so helpless. So useless. 

“Stop the fighting!” _Whack!_ Dean stared at Castiel’s eyes; blue to green, always blue to green. His terror flooded his vision with tears. 

_Castiel! Castiel! Castiel!_

“Give the world back to humanity!” _Whack! Whack!_

“Sam…” Castiel’s voice was so small. Dean never felt so desperate to be near him. He thrashed against his restraints to try to get closer. To touch him. To hold him. To love him. 

Sam paused and looked at the angel at his feet and his head tilted to the left. Listening. “Sam…” Castiel said again, and he slowly turned his head to look up at the younger brother. 

“Castiel, something to say little angel?” Sam dropped the scepter, a horrid misshapen thing, and leaned in close to Castiel’s face. “Say it then.” Reaching up, Castiel clutched onto Sam’s hair and pulled him closer. Sam shifted and struggled against him, but Castiel’s eyes glowed with the fading light of his Grace, and he held firmly onto the hunter. Lifting his other hand, he drew a symbol on Sam’s forehead with his blood. Sam shouted as the symbol hissed against his skin and Castiel released him to pull away. 

Dean suddenly realized he was able to move and he scrambled to get to his feet. Running to where the two men laid, Dean paused. He looked towards his brother, laying on the ground clutching at his head, and he looked at Castiel, beaten and broken, looking up at him calmly. For the first time in his life, Dean felt torn between them. 

“Castiel!” Sam said and rolled onto his side to get to his feet. “Cas…”   
“Sam what is going on,” Dean said and he bent to help Castiel sit up. Dean could hardly look at him with how beaten he was. 

“I…I don’t know, I…” Sam’s eyes were wide and bewildered. 

“It’s the…Recurve,” Castiel said weakly, getting to his feet, “it is affecting his mind.” Dean looked at Sam and could see the confusion and disorientation on his brother’s face. He had seen that so many times before in so many different people they were possessed. They didn’t understand. That look that said ‘This couldn’t have happened to me’. 

“I think it’s more than that, Cas,” Dean said coldly, and his eyes spoke the question to the man he loved. He could feel Castiel’s emotions: worried, guarded, afraid, in love, but he could also tell that Cas was determined to protect Dean at any cost. 

“Dean…we just need to get rid of the Recurve-“ Cas offered weakly. 

“What’s in it?” Dean asked and he took a step away from both the angel and his brother. It seemed both of them were doing a fine job of keeping this a secret from him. All three of them eyed each other warily. Dean could see that Sam was somewhere else again. Listening to some voice no one else could hear. He gripped the Recurve tightly. “Is it a demon? Is that what was also in that scepter, Cas? Is that what you learned in my Dad’s journal?” 

“Dean, it’s far worse than that,” Cas said softly and Dean rounded on him. 

“Then tell me! What made Sam beat you like this!” 

“No one made me do anything,” Sam said distantly, but he didn’t sound nearly so convinced as he might want them to believe. 

_It’s…an angel_ , Castiel said reluctantly in Dean’s mind, _no one must know of this Dean, if Heaven finds out they will execute my brother._

_An angel? Are you fucking kidding me, Cas?_ Dean turned towards Sam again. His brother’s eyes shifted back into focus and he looked at Dean. 

“Who are you talking to, Sammy?” 

“…what are you talking about, Dean?” Sam took a step back, uneasy. 

“Look, just…give me the Recurve.” Dean said moving towards his brother; holding out his hand. Sam’s jaw tightened and he glared at Dean. A moment later he looked past Dean to Castiel. 

“Dean, I didn’t mean to hurt, Cas. My mind just kind of got stuck. But I’m okay now. Castiel…he kind of unstuck me when he touched me and I am fine. So can we just, forget all this happened? Dean? Cas?” 

“Until when?” Dean said incredulously. He took another step, closing the distance between him and his brother, and lowered his voice so that none of the other hunters might overhear. “Until you start having new voices control your life the way Lucifer did? Until you are firing guns at nothing and confusing the people who want to help you for the people that want to hurt you? No. This ends now, Sam. Give me the Recurve and just walk away from it.” Dean glared at his brother making it as clear as he could that there was no negotiating this. Sam stared back at him for a long time, but then finally shrugged and looked away. 

“Fine,” he said softly, “you want it you can have it. I am done with all of this.” Sam lifted his arm to the side, and released the Recurve from his hand so that it fell to the earth with a solid _thunk_. Sam looked past Dean again to Castiel behind him. 

“Protect him.” He said to Cas in a gentle voice, and then he turned and walked into the night. Dean watched him for a moment, conflicted as to whether to let him go or call him back. He turned then, and was able to catch Castiel just as the angel fell forward to the earth. The fires were starting, and the hunter’s funerals illuminated the night sky. Around them, hunters mourned the fallen and searched the night to protect the living from stray monsters. The fight was over, but Dean felt as though the war had just begun. 

“Cas,” he said softly and kissed the angels forehead. Castiel had not healed himself which made it clear to Dean just how little energy he had left. Dean opened his soul, desperate to help Cas replenish, but the angel was too weak to even respond to him. “Cas, come on. Don’t do this now, buddy, you’re stronger than this.” 

“Dean…just let me lie down for a moment,” Castiel said weakly and Dean lowered them both to the ground. He propped Cas’s head on his leg and Dean sat with him, smoothing back the angels hair, while Cas worked to re-gather his strength. Cas stared into the distance and after a moment Dean realized that Cas was staring at the Recurve still laying on the ground. 

“Do you want to see that, Cas?” Dean asked and the angel nodded. He sat up weakly, and Dean got up to retrieve the Recurve for him. Touching the bow felt odd. It was much lighter than Dean thought it would be considering the way Sam always lugged it around, but it otherwise felt no different to him than any other piece of metal. It was hard to believe it was so powerful in his brother’s hands. 

When he turned back, Castiel appeared to heal himself and seemed in a much better state. Dean let out a sigh of relief. He handed the bow to Cas and then sat on the ground next to him once more. For a long time, Castiel just stared at the bow in amazement. His fingers traced over the finer points of the intricate carvings. His emotions swirled together and slowly all lesser thoughts fell away leaving only one pure awestruck emotion blaring on brain-Cas radio. 

“Cas, what is it?” Dean asked nervously. 

“It’s…the Recurve.” Castiel sounded as though the breath had been knocked out of him. “The angel that was once in it…he’s gone.” 

End of Part 3 


	31. Chapter 31

Part Four: The Ghost in the Machine 

_Something is different, Sam, I can feel it._ Sam watched his army trudge back to their cars and their town, but felt removed from them. They were his army, but no more. He glanced at Shawn, the only Chosen still alive, and felt the haunted shock emanating from the man. He'll be of little use for a while. Sam then glanced at Dean who was close behind him and prattling over the hunters holding Castiel. Sam's mouth twisted. _Are you listening to me, Sam?_

_Yes, Gabe I'm listening, but I'm waiting for you to explain yourself better._   
“Ok, we need to stop!” Dean shouted and Sam turned to watch Dean and the rest of the hunters as they panted to catch their breath. Sam hardly felt the first twinge of exertion. 

_When Serrath had her hand in you that... that thing was trying to rip me out of your body right through your soul! I don’t know why, but she wanted me gone. She wanted your “no vacancy” sign to turn off. She wanted you to fly solo._

_Your point?_ Sam thought dryly. Gabriel really loved to hear himself speak.   
“Burn them,” Dean commanded to the other hunters, “give them a proper hunter’s funeral.” He turned then and his eyes met Sam's. 

_My point is after that bitch of a witch tried to make spaghetti out if your insides, something changed. With us._

_Like what?_ Sam asked as he watched Dean examine one of the chosen. 

_I...I don't know_ . _I haven't figured it out yet_. Gabriel sounded genuinely distraught and Sam felt some sympathy for the angel. In his mind, he reached out and gently caressed the angel’s presence in his soul. It has grown to be a comfort to have Gabriel there. 

_Try harder_ , Sam thought softly, and Gabe responded with an image of diving into a pile of books. Sam smiled faintly and greeted his brother who was finally making his way over. 

“Dean,” Sam breathed when Dean touched his shoulder. 

“Fix him, Sam.” Dean’s voice was hard. 

“Yes, Dean. I know, but there’s things that you need to know first.” 

“Now, Sam!” Dean yelled, and Sam fell silent. Dean was so damned focused on his precious angel, he couldn't see how it was hurting his little brother. Before it was always just Sam and Dean, and while Castiel was helpful, he never stuck around so damn long. Now Sam was playing second fiddle, and Cas the pet peon was the headlining event. Frankly, it pissed him off how quickly his brother changed. Sam suspected his hurt and dejection showed on his face when Dean softened his words. “Look, I don’t know what is going on with you two, but I can’t keep carrying Cas all the way back to the car. You have to fix this. Please.” 

“Dean, you don’t know what he is. You don’t know what he’s about-“said Sam and Gabriel perked up in mind once more. 

_He's under a spell, Sam._   
“I know all I need to know, Sam, and anything else that needs telling, Cas will tell me,” Dean said flatly. 

_Angel magic. He's being manipulated_ . Sam opened his mouth to explain that Castiel was just using Dean like his own food bank, and that being Soul-bound meant that he had no choice to follow Dean around whether he cared or not, but the words died on his tongue. What was the point? It’s not like he would listen to Sam anyway. Dean would refuse to believe that whatever bond they shared wasn’t genuine unless he heard it from Cas himself. Sam would have to talk to Cas and make sure that happened. Until then, there was no reason to hold him hostage. 

Sam walked to where Castiel laid on the ground. Leaning over, he broke the arrow that binded Cas to stillness by snapping it between his fingers. It hardly took any effort at all for someone who knew what he was looking at. Castiel turned to look at Sam, and Sam's breath caught in his throat. The angels eyes were completely red. 

_He's no good, Sam. Don't trust him._ Gabriel hissed and Sam immediately regretted giving into his brother. 

“Thank you,” Dean said softly, and Sam nodded at him warily. Suddenly, Castiel erupted Grace from his fingertips. Sam thought at first Cas would lash out at him, but instead the tricky thing recalled the weave of power Sam had used to send Serrath’s scepter to pocket in his Grace like Gabriel had shown him, and the weapon appeared in his hand. 

“No!” Sam said, and dread roiled in his stomach. What would Castiel do? With such power in this red-eyed monsters hands, no one was safe. 

"Effugio obscurum," Castiel chanted in Latin, and before Sam could counter the spell, the demon soul contained within was released. Sam flew into a rage. The stupid angel must have read his father's journal. Sam could kick himself for not hiding it but he didn't think they would be clever enough to figure it out. His father wrote about weapons made of demon souls and how to vanquish the demon within. Sam had wondered at the time if his father knew about angel’s being used in the same way, but it mattered little now. 

“No!” Sam shouted again. He grabbed the scepter from Castiel, and probed at it with his mind but it was already too late. The demon could not be recalled back to it. It made sense that Castiel would do this if he knew Sam's intentions. If the angel was smart enough to figure out that Sam meant to wipe his entire species off the face of the earth, he would want to stop it to stay with Dean. 

_He knew full well what he was doing. He couldn't let you separate him from his prize._ Dean. Sam glared into the evil angels eyes. They looked like red pools of blood. 

"What did you do?" Sam asked softly. Castiel lowered his head, refusing to meet Sam's glare any more. 

_He's evil, Sam. He's a parasite. Look at his eyes. Take him out._ Dean might have said something, Sam wasn't sure. All he could hear was Gabriel. All he could feel was Gabriel's Grace caressing the edges of his soul. His pure anger for Castiel burning like a furnace at the base of Sam’s skull. He felt dizzy and drunk from it but his eyes never left the angel. Something in him gave over. He couldn't stand the thought of what the lot of them had become. Betrayed again and again. Lying to each other. Holding secrets from one another. Constantly disappointing and backstabbing…this was no family. Castiel was not his family. The feel of Gabriel intensified in his mind. His fingers dug deep into Sam’s soul to the point of pain, and Sam felt himself toppling into an abyss. 

_I will do what needs done,_ Gabriel said, his voice like a caress. _I will fix everything._

  
  
  


Gabriel put the ball of the scepter under Castiel's chin, forcing his head up to look into Sam’s eyes. 

"Castiel," Gabriel growled through his teeth, "what did you do, you useless pet?" 

"Sam... wait a second..." said Dean uneasily but Gabriel ignored him. Finally and at last he could have his retribution. For everything. For all the destruction Castiel had caused. 

"What did you do?" Gabe shouted and he swung the scepter back before bringing it full force against Castiel’s skull. It was for losing his angelic form against a brother he could not beat in a senseless war. Because he believed in Castiel. 

Dean reached out to grab Sam, but Gabe quickly shot him with a body binding arrow and turned back to his brother. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam whimpered. 

“Sam! …w-why are you doing this?” It was for the thousands of angels this one wretched being killed in his desire to control. Gabe picked up the scepter once more. “Sam!” 

It was for stopping the course of fate to protect one insignificant man. He raised the scepter, and brought it down on Castiel’s back. The angel turned on his side, pulling himself into a ball. 

It was for accepting that, in spite of all his power, he was condemned to be subservient to this one useless man. Gabe hit him again. _Whack!_

“Sam, please…stop doing this,” Dean pleaded. Subservient the way Gabriel now was to Sam. _Whack!_

“Sam! Stop it! Don’t hurt him!” And Castiel never fought it. Never tried to take control of the situation. Never manipulated Dean by…making him see red evil in an angels eyes for example. _Whack!_

“Sam! Stop it! Stop it now!” No, his stupid brother destroyed so much; so many of them dead. So many of his brothers and sisters lost. _Whack!_

“He made me do this, Dean,” Gabe called over his shoulder and his voice was calm and steady. “This mutt of yours ruined everything!” He shouted the last word, biting at the syllables with spit and teeth. _Whack!_

“Sam…I don’t understand. What happened, what was in that scepter?” Gabriel never asked to be eternally bound to a human. He didn't want to be around humans at all. He wanted the angels back in heaven and humans down on earth, like it was before. Before the fall. That was his plight for the sake of humanity. Nothing noble but at least it was clean. Unlike Castiel. 

“I am so sick of this, Dean!” Gabe shouted and turned to look at the lowly hunter. Sam reached for control but Gabriel gently pushed him away. _Be still._ “It’s always hunt or be hunted. Hunt or be hunted. Aren’t you sick of it?” Gabe turned back and swung a kick squarely into Castiel’s ribs. “Then this…this fucking angel!” 

Anna, gone. Uriel, gone. Raphael, gone. The scepter swung again, cracking against a bone in Castiel’s shoulder. Zachariah, gone. Michael, gone. Gabriel…gone. “What does he do? He betrays us again, Dean! Again!” 

Again! _Whack_! And again! _Whack_! And again! _Whack_! 

No matter how much Gabriel beat him, it wasn't enough. He never wanted to stop until this angel was nothing more than a sack of blood and skin and broken bone.   
“Sammy, please! Can’t we just talk about this! Stop hitting, him!” 

“No, see that’s the point, Dean. ‘Cause for whatever reason, you are under some sort of angel love spell, and you won’t listen to me. You won’t see this thing for what he really is. This little shit-“ _Whack!_

_We have to stop this!_ Sam pleaded and Gabriel ignored him. They both wanted the same thing. The scepter could have worked as a catalyst to drive all the angels back to heaven. It would have worked. 

“The scepter was supposed to stop all of this. Stop the war!” _Whack!_ Castiel had to of known. Maybe he caught a glimpse of the plan when he searched Sam's soul. He had to have known it was what Sam wanted but he didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care. 

“Stop the fighting!” _Whack_! Instead of seeing it through or at least take the time to ask Sam why, he just took matters into his own hands and turned the whole plan to a heap of rotting dung. 

“Give the world back to humanity!” _Whack! Whack!_

“Sam…” Castiel whispered, and Gabriel paused. He looked at the angel at his feet and his head tilted to the left. Listening. In his rage, all thoughts were drowned out of his mind. He lost his temper and Gabriel hated when he did that. Now that his shouting ceased, and control slowly returned, Gabe could hear Sam wailing from somewhere within. 

_Gabriel please! Please don't do this! Please stop hitting him! Don't hurt him anymore!_

“Sam…” Castiel said again and his eyes met Gabes. 

_After everything he has done. All that he has cost us here as he did in heaven. You... forgive him still?_ Gabe was awestruck. 

“Castiel, something to say little angel?” Little brother? Gabe dropped the scepter, a horrid misshapen thing, and leaned in close to Castiel’s face. “Say it then.” Reaching up, Castiel clutched onto Sam’s hair and pulled him closer. Gabe shifted and struggled against him, but Castiel channeled his dwindling Grace into his strength and held firmly onto the hunter. Lifting his other hand, he drew a symbol on Sam’s forehead with his blood. Gabriel shouted as the symbol hissed against his skin and Castiel released him to pull away. 

The symbol was an angel ward. Castiel must know it was him in control. As the blood hissed into his skin, Gabe could feel that control slipping. Scrambling, he reached for the helm but the act was just a second too late. 

_We'll talk about this later,_ Sam said bitterly, and then placed a lock on the angels newly formed cage. 

  
  
  


“Castiel!” Sam said and found his feet to stand again. “Cas…” Christ, if he could just think what to say. Gabriel suspected that Castiel already knew the truth of it but the possession only occupied a fraction of the time that Sam mistreated his friend. He felt horrible for what he'd done. 

“Sam what is going on,” Dean said and he bent to help Castiel sit up. 

“I…I don’t know, I…” Sam couldn't tell Dean the truth. He couldn't give Gabriel up. He needed the angel's power. He needed the angel. Deep inside him, Sam could feel Gabriel strain in his cage. 

“It’s the…Recurve,” Castiel said weakly, getting to his feet, “it is affecting his mind.” Dean looked at Sam, and Sam could only look confused. How much did Castiel know? How did he know it? What was he scheming? 

_Don't trust him, pretty boy,_ Gabriel whispered. Sam understood Gabriel’s mistrust and resentment of Castiel after everything that had happened. Under it all, Sam knew that Gabe was furious at himself as well for not being a part of the game just a little bit longer. Gabriel felt that if he was around to help guide Castiel; be an ally on the side of humanity, then maybe some what had happened would have gone differently. Yes, Sam understood his new friend, but didn't like being taken over like he was. He and Gabe had to come up with some hard rules. 

“I think it’s more than that, Cas,” Dean said coldly. 

“Dean…we just need to get rid of the Recurve-“ Cas offered weakly. Sam's mouth tightened. 

_Give it to them_ , Gabe whispered and Sam lost track of his surroundings. All voices melted away. 

_What are you taking about?_ Sam asked, dumbfounded. 

_It doesn't matter anymore Sam,_ Gabe’s soft voice echoed from his cage, _you don't trust me._

Sam blanched _. I trust that you do what you think is best for both of us_ , _I just don’t agree with how you did it._

"Is it a demon?" Sam heard Dean ask but he pushed the voice away. 

_You don't want me here_ , Gabe said sadly, _and I don’t know if I even want to be here._

_I want you to be here!_ Sam retorted incredulously _, I need you and you need me._

“Then tell me! What made Sam beat you like this!” Dean shouted. 

“No one made me do anything,” Sam said distantly, but he wasn’t really listening to his brother. His mind was focused on Gabriel. What did Sam really want in this? Did he want to give up the angel all together? No. They had a hiccup; a little disagreement, but he still wanted Gabriel in his life. The things they could do together was limitless. And, Sam had to admit, he has grown attached to Gabe over the past few days. No, this wasn’t going to happen the way they thought it would. He refused to let Gabriel go. He just had to find a way out. 

“Who are you talking to, Sammy?” Sam forced himself to focus on his brother and pushed Gabriel’s arguments to the back of his mind. 

“…what are you talking about, Dean?” Sam took a step back, uneasy. 

“Look, just…give me the Recurve.” Dean said moving towards him; holding out his hand. Sam’s jaw tightened and he glared at his brother. He was not about to give up his angel. Not when Dean had his own. Sam looked past Dean to Castiel. 

“Dean, I didn’t mean to hurt, Cas. My mind just kind of got stuck. But I’m okay now. Castiel…he kind of unstuck me when he touched me and I am fine. So can we just, forget all this happened? Dean? Cas?” 

“Until when?” Dean asked with a sneer. He took another step, closing the distance between them, and lowered his voice so that none of the other hunters might overhear. “Until you start having new voices control your life the way Lucifer did?” 

_Let me go, Sam._

“Until you are firing guns at nothing and confusing the people who want to help you for the people that want to hurt you?” 

_Just give over the Recurve and we will be done with this._

“No. This ends now, Sam. Give me the Recurve and just walk away from it.” Dean glared at his brother making it as clear as he could that he was serious with what he meant. Sam stared back at him for a long time, but then finally shrugged and looked away. It seemed like everyone was making his mind up for him. 

“Fine,” he said softly, “you want it you can have it. I am done with all of this.” Sam lifted his arm to the side, but at the last minute, panic gripped at his chest. He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready to let Gabriel go. Grabbing ahold of the essence in his mind that was the angel, Sam held on to him with all the strength his soul could muster, and released the Recurve from his hand so that it fell to the earth with a solid _thunk_. Sam looked past Dean again and watched Castiel behind him. Searching desperately inside his mind, Sam clawed at the corners of his consciousness until finally, thankfully he found it. Gabriel. He was still there. The damage Serrath had done to Gabriel’s tether to the Recurve was enough to help tear him from the weapon completely. He was a part of Sam now. 

_Sam…what have you done?_ The angel whispered in a tiny voice. It didn’t matter. They would figure it out. But to do so, they needed to spend some time on their own. 

“Protect him.” He said to Cas in a gentle voice, and then he turned and walked into the night. He had a lot of soul searching he needed to do. 


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 31 

Castiel watched Dean pace across the motel room. The group of ragtag hunters had disbanded with the threat of monster take-over no longer on the horizon, and aside from Shawn, Dean had made no promises to keep in touch. It was hard to lead a group when he could hardly keep his family together. 

It had been two days since the Rexpoint battle and Dean has barely spoken to Castiel. Cas understood that he was upset that Sam had dropped off the radar and that things have gone from bad to worse for the brothers, but Castiel was growing tired of waiting. They needed to talk about this and Dean was shutting him out. Again. Castiel contemplated leaving. He loved Dean but there was so many other places where he could be of more use. 

Watching the hunter pace, Castiel reached out to him with soothing mental images and the longing to comfort him. His efforts met with a brick wall. 

"Stop it, Cas," Dean said curtly. 

"Can we talk about this?" Castiel offered and Dean turned to glare at him. 

"Oh, so you're ready to tell me who this angel is that has my brother by the balls?" Castiel winced. That was the one thing Dean had asked him after they got into his car and took off in no particular direction, but Castiel was reluctant to answer him. 

"I... think we should talk to Eros," the angel said softly and Dean scoffed. 

"Fine. Bring the fucker here so I can rip his head off." 

"Dean..." 

"No!" Dean shouted and whirled on Cas. He jabbed a finger at the angel while he spoke. "He is the reason for all of this. I don't care that Sam agreed, no person should have this much power. Not even my brother. And now he’s sharing his brain with an angel again." 

"Eros made a lot of mistakes," Castiel said cautiously, "but so have I. So have we all. And he's my brother." 

"Yeah, they are all your brothers and sisters, Cas." 

"Eros is different." Rising to his feet, Castiel crossed the room to where Dean stood and slipped his hands around the hunter's waist. "Every angel I have ever known has tried to betray me. Except Eros. He's truly my brother, Dean." Dean met his gaze for a moment and then ducked his head to look away. 

"If you want to call him here then call him here," he resigned to agree upon. 

"And you won't rip his head off?" Castiel asked, and Dean rolled his eyes. Tightening his grip, Castiel pulled the hunter closer to him and softly kissed his pouted lips. They had not been affectionate since just after the battle and the act seemed almost alien to Cas. 

After a moment, Dean softened under his touch and returned the kiss with a growing heat that Castiel felt deep inside his core. While his Grace was a tidal wave navigated by ebb and flow, Castiel continued to struggle to control it when blinded by these serious bouts of passion from Dean. It was embarrassing that he was so hindered from more intense love making with his Soul-bound. 

Dean’s lips parted and the kiss intensified causing Castiel’s Grace to swell. He needed to find a way to control it and not drink in so much of Dean's emotions or otherwise his Grace will overcome his vessel and burn the human body to a crisp. 

"Cas..." Dean whispered against his lips, all his previous hardness washed away, and Castiel's Grace hummed. He moaned softly from the pleasure of it and Dean shifted his attention to kissing the hollow at the base of Castiel’s neck. Fighting, struggling, wrestling with his Grace, Castiel pushed the essence of Dean's soul away, and the fire inside him abated just a little bit. Castiel refused to hurt Dean again like he did before. He wanted to pleasure Dean, and excite him, but it seemed the more excited Dean got, the more excited Castiel got, and then Dean would suddenly be whipped by tendrils of Grace in the throes of Castiel's passion. They hadn't even tried to let Dean reciprocate yet. The whole endeavor was frustratingly slow. 

Cas steadied his breath, trying to hold himself back, and began to lower himself to his knees. Halfway down, Dean put his hands under Castiel's arms and pulled him back up. 

"No, not that. Not tonight," Dean said with a deep throaty voice that only came out during sex. Dean led Castiel towards the bed and Cas eyed it warily. Was Dean trying to get him to go further than he was safe to go? Castiel reeled in his Grace as best he could, and followed Dean’s lead. He trusted Dean in all things, including this. 

Dean pulled Cas's jacket off and his tie, tossing them on the floor. Being more aware of the elements with his sensations, Castiel wore his trench coat less and less. Although, he has always been fond of it. He had carried and needed that coat through so many trials, and in those dark days when he forgot who he was, Dean carried it for him. 

Distracted by thoughts of his attire, Cas was caught off guard when Dean sat at the edge of the bed, pulled the angel's shirt away from his belly and nipped at the tender flesh there. Castiel gasped and wrestled his Grace back into submission. Sex with a human was like wrestling a tornado. Castiel always had to be on guard not to overwhelm himself with too much sensation. He was eternally grateful to Eros for this gift he was given, and thus far it seemed to be holding fast, but it was not without its obstacles. 

"Quit spacing out," Dean whispered against Castiel's stomach as his hands slid under the length of his shirt. Castiel worked at his buttons and desperately tried to ignore the enticing pull of Dean's overly aroused soul. 

"I'm trying Dean," Cas said breathily, "it's so hard." 

"Thinking about baseball?" Dean looked up and smiled which made Castiel feel like he was melting inside. He slipped out of his shirt, and Dean’s hands explored the length of his chest and back causing Cas to shiver in delight. 

"I don't understand... what baseball has to do with anything." His breaths were coming more quickly and Castiel clawed at tranquility. Under the stiff cut if his dress pants, his cock swelled to rigidity. This was going to end badly. No matter how hard he tried, it always did. Dean's hands slid over Castiel's chest and fingertips played at his hardened nipples. Castiel groaned from the delightful sensation and Dean paused. 

"Cas, you gotta calm down man." Cas closed his eyes and forced his breathing to steady out. His hands twitched at his sides, yearning to reach out and touch Dean, but he stilled them to tranquility. Dean's fingers slid into the front of his pants and undid belt, button, and zipper. Castiel held his breath and his hands balled into fists. He squeezed his eyes tight. He had to stay calm. 

Reaching into his boxers, Dean pulled at Castiel's cock, and brought it out into the cool air. Feeling Dean's fingers on his shaft was like electricity and he sucked air sharply through his teeth. Dean had never tried this before. 

"Stay calm," the hunter whispered and slowly his fingers traced along the head of Castiel's dick. The angel had not realized until that moment just how sensitive his skin really was. He felt dizzy from the touch and whimpered as he rested his hands on Dean’s shoulders. 

"Dean..." 

"Shh," Dean said softly and suddenly Castiel could feel the moist heat of Dean's breath against his skin. He gasped again, breaths hitching in his burning lungs, and his fingers tightened on the hunter's skin. 

"Be calm..." Castiel whispered, "must be calm..." Dean groaned deep in his throat and suddenly Castiel was in his mouth. Hot breath played against the angel's skin and Castiel shuddered. 

"Dean... don't stop. Oh it feels... so good..." No matter how hard he tried, his breaths wouldn't slow. His Grace clawed at its confines, trying to reach out and consume the raging desire emanating from Dean but Castiel managed to keep it bay. Barely. 

Dean worked Castiel into his mouth, twisting and sucking, and Castiel shuddered from the contact. 

"Dean....Dean..." his hands shook from the restraint. His body shook from the pleasure. "Please... I'm..." Suddenly a spasm of ecstasy wracked Castiel's body and the last grip he had to contain his Grace collapsed. Tendrils of fiery energy burst forth from his body and Dean quickly twisted around in the bed in front of him. Castiel moaned loudly at the release as both semen and Grace emptied from him in cascading waves of pleasure. 

His Grace absorbed the passion of Dean's arousal like a sponge and swelled to three times its size. Unable to contain such an amount, Cas balled the energy and thrust it into the sky outside their room where it burst into a firework of gold brilliance. Beside them the motel window shattered. 

Realization flooded back to him along with the horror of what he had done. 

"Dean!" He cried out as he looked over the charred surface of the bed. With his Grace abated and able to be pulled back into his vessel, the light of the room dimmed around him and it took a second for his human eyes to adjust. For one horrible moment, Castiel thought he burned Dean. But then he saw movement of the scorched comforter and Dean's face re-emerged from where he had been hiding. 

"Cas, you really need to get that shit under control," Dean said with a half grin. 

"Dean, I am so sorry. I am so so sorry," Castiel felt utterly humiliated with his lack of self-control. His body was just so sensitive and the sensations so incredible it was hard not to lose oneself in it. His face burned hot as he hurriedly dressed himself. 

"Hey," Dean said gently and got to his feet. He pulled Castiel towards him and into a long kiss. "It's alright, I didn't get hurt. Don't get upset." He enveloped Castiel into an embrace and the angel welcomed the warmth of him. Dean spoke again hesitantly. "I...I never did that before. I take it that I did alright?" 

"It was phenomenal" Castiel said while he closed his eyes to reminisce the sensation. Up to this point, since Castiel had taken Eros’s potion, Cas had only been able to pleasure Dean. Any amount of physical attention returned seemed to overwhelm the senses and he lost control right away. So at least he could say that they have made progress. "You are so amazing, Dean Winchester." 

"I...I really enjoyed that. Well, at least until the end," Dean said sheepishly, "maybe when we talk to your brother we could ask-" 

"No." 

"I'm just saying that-" 

"Dean, I'm not going to ask for sex advice from my little brother!" Cas said, exasperated, and Dean gave him a crooked smile. 

"Well I guess not when you say it that way." 

"Besides, when I bring Eros here it will be to talk about Sam. I am pretty sure the angel Grace has found a way to merge with your brother’s soul, and I don’t know what that means for Sam." Dean's face grew hard. 

"Yeah. Let's talk to him about that. Right after we clean up this motel room. I can't afford to keep paying your incidentals." The blush on Castiel’s face only darkened. 


	33. Chapter 33

Sam sat in the usual strip club known as Gabriel's corner of his mental landscape and studied the angel. They had spent a lot of time together over the past two days; it was impossible to avoid, and in that time Gabriel has grown introverted and surly. He might be able to hide a few things from Sam but it didn't take a Stanford degree to know that Gabriel was unhappy. Sam felt that Gabe was conflicted by the part of him that just wanted to go home, and the part of him that was compelled to remain faithfully devoted to Sam. As for Sam, he thought they made a good pair. They were formidable even without the scepter, and he just wished Gabe could see it too. 

"Gabriel... come on," Sam said and the angel rolled his eyes. They were sitting in the same familiar round plush corner booth, but this time Gabe was facing away from Sam refusing to look at him. Sam was beginning to understand how love and romance made the Soul-binding much easier to tolerate. It makes sense why Cas and Dean- 

"Don't even think it," Gabriel said pointedly and Sam felt abashed. 

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it. I see it in my mind when you think of me." Gabriel turned to look at Sam, his eyes narrow and his lips drawn into a thin line. 

"I thought about it back before I realized how the very genetic code of my being is acting against me!" Gabriel snapped and Sam just shrugged. 

"What do you want me to do?" Sam asked bleakly. 

"We need to find a way to get me out of your head," Gabriel leaned in conspiratorially "get me a new body." 

"I don't know if it's that easy," Sam said leaning in as well. He let his hand rest over Gabriel’s and took comfort in the contact. While neither were entirely pleased by the pairing, they couldn’t deny the unity in their Soul-binding. Sam would hate to lose the closeness they had formed. Gabriel scoffed at Sam’s whirling emotions. 

“Do you really want to share the ol’ noggin with the likes of me for the rest of your life? Sure it’s all fun and games now but the party can get old pretty quick.” Sam considered this for a moment. He supposed that Gabriel had a point. On the other hand, it made Sam feel… 

“If we do this,” he said hesitantly, “will you go away?” Gabriel tilted his head to the side and looked every bit his younger brother Castiel. 

“Sam…” Gabriel sounded lost, confused. 

“I…don’t…I want you to stay here, Gabe.” It might not be the same. It might not be like he was now with all the power of Gabriel’s Grace magnified through his soul, but Sam realized a few things while he has spent these days in solitude. Gabriel might have been influencing Sam’s mind to act out against Castiel, but the underlying issues were still there. It wasn’t just Dean and him anymore. From this point forward it was Dean and Castiel, and if Sam wanted to be a part of it, he would be the one sitting in the back seat. It sounded foolish, but the thought did sting. He didn’t want to be left behind. Gabriel studied Sam for a long time. His hazel eyes like open pools inviting anyone to trust him. That was always the thing about Gabe. He had a way of forcing you to like him while he turned the whole thing into a game that only he could win. 

“Sam,” he said with an endearing tone and his lips curled into a mischievous smile. “This is the most fun I have had since I died. Why would I leave you?” Searching his eyes, Sam decided Gabriel was being sincere. He relaxed a little and his hand slid away from the angels. 

“What do we need to do?” He asked looking away. Gabriel waved one of the waitresses over to give her a drink order. 

“First we find our brothers,” Gabriel said and Sam turned to him surprised. 

“Really? Why?” He was not entirely opposed to the idea but wasn’t very excited about it either. They would have a lot of questions for him to answer. 

 

 

“Because, gentle boy, they are our ticket to Eros. Eros is the key, Sam. The key to everything.” 

Eros smiled broadly as his vessel’s mother entered the room. The woman asked no questions when he suddenly showed up on her doorstep. She was just relieved to have her son back, so she didn’t want to know much else. Eros gave his vessel and mother both some time together while he nestled into the back of the boys mind to rest. During this time however, a wonderful thing occurred. 

Eros found that, since sipping at his angel-shroud tonics, the best new sensation he enjoyed was the taste of sweets. He discovered in that home that he especially loved the taste of maple syrup. Oh the stuff was heaven sent. Ambrosia, he could argue, would not compare. He had his share of sweets in the past but, with the veil falling away…well he understood why his brother Castiel had wanted sensations back so badly. Sweets trumped everything, and syrup took the crown. 

Eros’s mother…or rather Bradley’s mother, returned his smile and set pancakes in front of him on the kitchen table. Already his mouth watered and the main event had not even been doled over these lovely flat cakes. 

“This is your third helping, honey, you’re going to get sick if you keep this up.” 

“I won’t get sick,” Eros said flatly. “I never get sick.” 

When he arrived and rested, Bradley spent the time he yearned for with his mother. It was an arrangement they had that he could have his time with her as long as he kept Eros a secret. It was for the best anyway because he would have otherwise had to kill her for knowing. He rested for a few days, content to contemplate, until the maple syrup happened. On that morning he decided he was done resting. It had been too long since he saw Castiel anyway. Curiosity lured him back to the place he was banished from. He would go. In a day or two he would see what he could find out of the Winchester’s fight, but for now, pancakes and syrup were his shackles and his salvation. 

Bradley’s mother shuffled away only to return seconds later with a warm glass bottle of clear brown liquid. Eros snatched it from her greedily. 

“Manners, Bradley,” the woman said but Eros already was pouring the contents over his pancakes. His mind whirled at the anticipation of the sweet syrup dancing across the taste buds of his desperate tongue. God in heaven but did he love this. 

“Eros,” a new voice called from behind him and Eros paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. 

“Castiel,” he said softly. So he waited too long in his respite. No matter. Today was a good day for family reunions. Proceeding the rest of the way, Eros slid the fork between his teeth and reveled at the flavor with a long groan. “You really should try these, Castiel,” he said around his food. 

“Who are you?” Bradley’s mother said sharply. The soft thud to the floor was enough for Eros to know the Grace he sensed was Castiel putting the woman to sleep. Then the angel moved into his field of vision and Eros looked up at him. Castiel. His brother looked amazing. Radiant. Perfection in all sense of the word. He stood tall and serene with a small smile tugging at his lips. Even before the angel-shroud tonic, Eros admired Castiel, but now he utterly worshiped him. The big brother that he aspired to be. 

“It’s good to see you again, brother,” Castiel said sincerely and his face broke into a glorious smile. It was all that Eros could take. He dropped his fork and jumped from his chair to wrap his arms around the other angel. He was barely able to refrain from making a fool of himself and start blubbering like an infant. “We need to speak to you. Dean and I. There is much I must share regarding Sam.” 

Castiel was frank. Not angry or disappointed, but still the dark cloud seemed to return to Eros’s mind. He didn’t want to talk about this. It was the absolute last thing he wanted to know about. But he would go all the same because Castiel wanted him to, and because he wanted to return to his brother’s side. Castiel, who hid him away to protect him. Castiel, who loved Eros as much as Eros loved him back. 

“Can I finish my pancakes?” Eros asked meekly. Castiel’s blue eyes acknowledged the plate. 

“Bring them with you,” he said and Eros greedily grabbed the plate and fork. As a second thought he snatched the bottle of warm syrup as well. A moment later, they vanished from the room with a flap of angel wings, leaving Bradley’s mother to wake on her own; filled with the despair of unanswered questions. 

 

 

Dean drummed his fingers against the table. They found a decent motel room with an early check-in and plenty of room to fit another angel without it feeling like a crowd. It was a good set up and a good place for them to all pow-wow about the Sam situation. So why did Dean feel so on edge? 

Maybe it was because things didn’t seem to be working out so easily with Castiel. Regardless, while it was a bit of a frustration, it didn’t change how he felt. Neither he nor Cas were much for sentimental conversations with each other. In fact, their lack of open honesty with one another has often caused a lot of hurt feelings in the past if not worse. Much much worse. So he can’t fault Cas for not wanting to pour his heart with Dean about his bedroom performance issues, but Dean wished he would. He wished they could work around it somehow. He wished…for so much more than a quick no-touch blow job or some late morning cuddling. 

He felt like he was with his first high school girlfriend again trying to work her through the bases. That’s not to say that Dean was a veteran in all this. He had never did the whole gay thing before so yeah, it was a little different but not in a bad way. He read some stuff online and watched a few…instructional videos. He got the gist of things, and he was ready to put the ideas to practice if Castiel would just stop whipping out the S&M crap on him. 

_What are you thinking about, Dean?_ Dean jumped and looked around the room to find Castiel standing next to Eros near the window. 

“Mind privacy, Cas,” Dean snapped and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Sorry, Dean,” Cas said softly and Dean could sense embarrassment from the angel. How much of that did he pick up? 

“It’s good to see you’re doing well, Dean,” Eros said pleasantly and…he was holding a plate of pancakes. 

“Bring me breakfast?” Dean asked hopefully but Eros frowned, glancing at a confused Castiel. The boy opened his mouth to answer but Dean’s phone suddenly came alive in his pocket playing Sam’s ringtone. Dean snatched it out and stared at it in disbelief. He glanced at the two angels at the other end of the room and then opened his phone to answer it. 

“…Sammy?” He said cautiously. 

“Hey, Dean,” his little brother replied in an awkward attempt at casual tone. Dean watched Eros fork some pancake into his mouth and his eyes narrowed. Castiel glanced over at his brother and then back at Dean. 

“Why are you calling me, Sam? I thought you took off to directions unknown,” Dean said, trying to sound just as casual as his brother. Castiel suddenly winked out of existence which should be unnerving if Dean wasn’t so damned used to it. 

“Yeah, about that. I would like to speak with you if I can. I…think there are a few things I need to explain.” 

“Oh there are definitely a few things you need to explain,” Dean retorted with a bit of edge in his voice, “cause it seems like Cas doesn’t want to offer any further knowledge on the situation either.” Castiel suddenly returned as if summoned, and had a container cradled in his hands. A white to-go box. Dean’s interests were peaked. 

“Really? Cas didn’t tell you? Huh.” 

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Dean said, getting a little annoyed by how his brother always made that sound when he was putting puzzle pieces together in his brain. Castiel approached Dean and calmly set the box on the table. 

“Nothing. I just…can I see you? Where are you staying?” 

“Dovetail Bed and Breakfast out on route 85 in Kansas. How soon can you get here?” Castiel opened the box and a steaming pile of pancakes resided within. Dean groaned in delight. 

“God, do I love you,” he said and Castiel beamed under his praise. There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.   
“Dean,” Sam said at last, the awkwardness returning to his tone. “I’m on my way.” Suddenly Dean realized what he had said and how it must have sounded. 

“Nothing is going on, Sam!” he yelled but his brother had already hung up the phone. Fuck. 

Sam looked at his phone and shook his head. His brother was like a horny teenager. Sam imagined the two of them have been going at it non-stop since he hit the road. Probably didn’t stop to miss him one bit. 

_Should we give them a minute to finish up?_ Teased Gabriel but Sam shook his head again.   
_To hell with it Gabe, let’s go there now. Show me how to manifest these wings of yours._


	34. Chapter 34

Castiel couldn't help but smile. Hearing Dean say that he loved him, even if it was an impulsive statement at the presentation of food, was enough to have Castiel’s heart leaping out of his chest. Eros joined Dean at the table, and Cas watched his lover and his brother eat with such pride. It all felt so very domestic. 

"We should talk about Sam before he gets here," Dean said around mouthfuls of pancake. Eros had abandoned the cakes and was sipping syrup directly from the bottle. "He said he's coming but I don't know how long-" 

"Hello, Dean." Cas and Dean turned suddenly to see Sam standing in the room. Castiel’s jaw fell slack. The man actually flew! How was that even possible? 

"Sam!" Dean said surprised, but then covered his unease with a lewd smile and a spread of hands. "As you can see, things aren't how they might have sounded on the phone." Sam twitched his lips in a brief smile at his brother, but his attention was on Eros. 

"Eros, I am so glad you are already here. I need your help," he said gently and Cas took a protective step towards his brother. Sam glanced at him, his eyes flashing heat for a moment, but he recovered quickly. Eros seemed utterly oblivious to Sam’s sudden appearance on angel wings or the potential threat of Gabriel within him. 

"Anything I can do to help!" The boy offered cheerfully. "I see you aren’t carrying your Recurve around anymore. That's probably for the best." Castiel regretted not taking the time to explain the situation to his brother before returning. He had hoped the three of them could go over everything together before Sam got there. He supposed now it would be a time of revelation. 

"Sam, would you join us?" Castiel suggested and he offered the remaining chair at the table. “Maybe you could explain the situation better than I.” Sam took it, smiling at Cas, and settled in with a sigh. He looked unkempt and needed a shave, but otherwise…happy. No signs of possession and Cas couldn't sense Gabriel in him. He had to be hiding somewhere though if Sam was sprouting wings. Sam let out a long breath and he looked at each of them in turn. 

"I need to find a vessel," he said at last, and Eros blinked. 

"A what? Why would you need that?" Eros' confusion only seemed to confuse Sam in turn. Cas couldn't blame him. None of them seemed to know the full story of what was going on. 

"It's not for me," Sam continued, "it's for Gabriel." 

"Gabriel?" Dean was instantly to his feet glaring at all of them. Castiel glanced up at him sheepishly. He felt horrible. He wanted to tell Dean, he really did, but it was taboo to openly share who an angel was Soul-bound to. Even with Gabriel's current situation it just wasn’t done. Sam telling his brother was much more appropriate than if it had come from Cas. 

"Yes, Dean," Sam said glancing at Cas. "How much has Cas told you?" It turned out Cas told him very little. He had every intention to tell him at least some of it, but they just ran out of time and suddenly Sam was there. Sam was kind enough to explain how Cas was bound to Dean and thus subservient to him. Cas understood it was important for Dean to know this to understand the situation with Gabriel, but still he didn't like to reduce the weight of their relationship down to a matter of angel genetics. 

Considering the icy glances Dean passed his way, Cas suspected harsh words from the hunter at the very least. And really, did he not deserve it? For two days he could have made all this clear for Dean but instead he waited for things settled down and for Dean to stop being angry. Truthfully, although he would never admit it, he was ashamed to tell Dean. He worried that Dean would think less of him or less of what they shared together knowing that its origins spawned from Castiel’s core programming. 

After the demeaning truth to Castiel’s original attachment to Dean was in the open, Eros talked about how he formed the bows. This was easier for Dean to follow considering how Serrath’s scepter housed a demon soul in a similar fashion. Eros was ashamed as well; at how things backfired, not knowing that he used Sam’s Soul-bound in his bow, and begged the Winchester's to forgive him for it. Sam placated Eros’s worries, but Dean remained icy and silent. It seemed as though Eros and Castiel had the same effect on the older Winchester. 

Then Sam took up the story again and explained how Serrath was trying to separate Gabriel from Sam, making Sam a susceptible vessel for who knows what, and in the process weakened the ties Gabriel had to the bow. When Sam dropped the Recurve, the ties tore away completely, and Gabriel remained with Sam. The reality of the situation sunk home for Eros. 

"Holy shit balls!" Eros shouted, and then blushed from his use of profanity. He jumped to his feet, joining Dean in standing, and jarred the table enough that his plate toppled and crashed against the laminate floor. In the same instant, Eros was gone, fleeing to parts unknown. Cas and Dean both bent to pick up the shards of plate at the same time, but Dean smacked Castiel's hand away. 

"Don't worry about this, Cas, go get Eros." Dean's voice was hard, and Castiel mentally sent out his worry and love to the hunter. What he received back was white hot anger, and a deep stinging hurt. Castiel recoiled from the powerful emotions, fighting against the tears forming in his eyes. 

"Dean..." His voice waivered from the sensations, but Dean wouldn't even meet his eye. 

"Just go," he said coldly and so Castiel went. He followed the trail the angel had flown, reminding himself that he needed to ward the boy against other angels in case word got out of what he did with Gabriel. He found Eros crouched under the glowing light of the motel sign. 

"I'm not going back in there," Eros said the moment Castiel stilled his wings. 

"Please, Eros." 

"This whole situation just gets worse and worse," Eros groaned, looking up at his brother. Unshed tears in his eyes matched Castiel’s own and Eros blinked in surprise. 

"It's hard to face what we don't want to," Castiel said softly and moved to sit next to the little angel. "I agree it's easier to just run away." 

"Exactly," Eros said nodding. 

"But think about the consequences. Think about those you hurt when you avoid the truth. Think about the way they can hurt you back by not understanding your avoidance." Castiel scrubbed at his eyes and blotted his tears against his jacket. He definitely could understand why Eros found it easier to run away. But he couldn't do that anymore. He ran away from Dean before, after their time in the meadow, because he didn't want to address difficult emotions he didn't know how to contend with. All his running did though was hurt Dean which Castiel knew would be the result again. If he ran again, avoiding Dean's anger, he was sure Dean would forgive him but he might not love him anymore. The idea made fresh tears come to his eyes. 

"Castiel..." Eros said gently. He sounded lost and confused. 

"I can't make him happy," Castiel said before he realized the words were out of his mouth. Too late to turn back, he pressed on. "When we're intimate...I can't control my Grace and I end up attacking him with it. It happens every time and I'm so scared I'm going to really hurt him. Everything I do, anything I say, it makes me afraid that he’ll stop loving me." The inside cuff of his jacket was growing damp from his tears. Castiel switched to the other side. 

"Castiel," Eros said again sadly and took his brother's hand, "I'm so sorry that this has caused you pain." Cas shook his head. He wanted to say that while this night and this moment might be painful, there were so many new things he was grateful for. The way Dean's smile made him feel, or how his laughter tickled the insides of Castiel's ears. The way he smelled while he slept or the way the sun made his skin glow. 

Cas could not even begin to describe how changed the world around him was as well. Everything so different even though it was the same. He wanted Eros to understand that no matter how hard the pain, he never would regret this new chance at a life that he was given. He wanted to tell Eros how deeply he loved him for giving Cas this gift. But his tears wouldn't let him speak and the words choked in his mouth. So instead he sat and held his brother's hand and wept quietly in the stillness of the summer night. 

"You shouldn't be so hard on him," Sam offers while he watched his brother clean up the mess on the floor. Dean's shoulders tensed. 

"Mind your own business, Sam" Dean warned. 

"You both are my family. This is my business," Sam countered and Dean looked up at him in disbelief. 

"Family? Is that how you felt when you were beating Cas to a bloody pulp?" Sam winced. 

"That wasn't me. That was...that was Gabe. He was angry at Castiel for all the stuff that happened in heaven." 

"Right," Dean said, nodding sarcastically, "and so it's "Gabe" now? Good buddies with theTrickster?" 

"We're Soul-bound Dean, like you and Cas. You know what that feels like." 

"I don't even want to even think about that right now, Sammy." Dean stood and walked to the trash can where he dumped the remains of the plate. He looked conflicted and hurt. He looked tired. "Like heaven and hell isn't doing enough to jerk us around, it has to control who I love too?" 

"Dean, I don't love Gabriel," Sam said and Dean met his gaze. 

"Not yet, you don't," he said flatly and returned to the table to open the laptop. Sam watched him for a few moments and thought about what to say. Gabriel was oddly quiet for once, but Sam could sense him listening. Sam certainly didn't love Gabriel. Not in a sexual sense. Not now and he doubted he ever would but...he was fond of the angel. Did the Soul-binding effects only go one way? Or was Dean right to be upset? 

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, trying to distract his brain before he went in circles. 

"Looking for a hunt." 

"What?" Sam thought he must have misheard, but Dean glared at him. 

"I'm not going to be cooped up here all night when those two get it together and decide to come back. Cas is... emotional right now. I need to get out." 

"So you're running away," Sam said, nodding. 

"I'm not running away!" Shouted Dean, but they both knew better. 

"Samuel..." 

Sam turned to see that Eros and Castiel had returned. He didn't sense them which was not really surprising. It takes such a minute amount of Grace to use angel wings. Maybe more so with Sam since he's borrowing someone else's. 

Castiel looked devastated. His eyes were red and his cheeks puffy. His face was forlorn and he stared blankly at the ground. Meanwhile, Dean didn't spare a glance up from his laptop. Maybe Sam shouldn't be as jealous of these two as he thought. It seemed that his brother and his angelic friend still couldn't navigate the minefield of each other without him. 

"Thanks for coming back, Eros," Sam said with a small smile, and the angel walked over to plop in the chair he had vacated only a few minutes before. Castiel remained where he stood, some distance away, and watched them pensively. 

"I'm sorry I ran away, Samuel. Castiel has taught me the importance of not running from my problems." Dean scoffed at this but Sam ignored him. "I want you to know though that I ran for good reasons. What you are describing is impossible." 

"Why do you think that? I have had an angel possess me before, this isn't any different except for the amount of control I have now. Gabriel lets me have that control." 

"No, this is the whole point, don't you see? He shouldn't be giving you any control at all. He shouldn't even be talking to you. Gabriel is dead, Samuel. He died at the hands of our fallen brother Lucifer. What you describe…it’s like he’s reaching out beyond the grave." 


	35. Chapter 35

"Ghosts. Twins. Terrorizing a farmhouse two towns over. That seems promising." Dean bored holes into the computer screen with the glare in his eyes. If he could will himself out of the room he would. Just a few feet away, Castiel stood. Dean could sense his despair and self-loathing and the hunter’s heart churned. Even now, furious as he was, a part of him wanted to go to Castiel and comfort him. It was mind control pure and simple. Fucking angels. Slamming the laptop closed he got to his feet. "I'm going to go check it out." 

"Dean!" Sam turned and stared at him with open irritation. "Will you just sit down and shut up for a minute?" Dean locked eyes with his brother and they spoke volumes through their gaze. Dean was faced with options. He could take the low road and storm out like a little girl having a temper tantrum, or... 

Slow and deliberately, Dean sat down. Sam turned away from him and looked towards the older angel. "Castiel!" He said firmly and Cas jumped. "Sit down." Sam pointed at the other vacant chair at the table and after a moment, Castiel moved to take the seat. He looked no less miserable. Sam studied each of them in turn. 

"Now all of your listen to me," Sam said and his brow furrowed, "we need to stop this. Stop all the fighting. We are a family and we need to act a little more decently towards each other." 

"Decent?" Dean asked, "like not keeping secrets or lying to each other?" Castiel slumped in his chair. Sam’s mouth twisted and he glared wide-eyed at Dean. Dean pretended not to notice. In the back of his mind, he knew how he sounded. He knew there were so many times in his past that he had done just those things he was condemning Cas for. He was just too stubborn to care at the moment. 

"Castiel," Sam said but his eyes never left Deans. Dean didn't know how he felt about his brother suddenly growing a pair. "Why did you not tell Dean about the Soul-binding?" 

“Because…I was…ashamed,” Castiel said in a small guarded voice. Dean glanced at him for a moment but then returned his attention to Sam. “Because…I didn’t want him to think less of me. I didn’t…I didn’t…” Castiel swallowed hard. “I didn’t want him to stop loving me.” Dean cringed. He did not want to talk about all of this in front of his brother. Sam, who seemed suddenly more like the older brother and not the younger, with his hard unwavering stare. 

“Have you, Dean?” he asked and Dean blinked at the question. “Have you stopped loving him? Look at him, Dean. Tell him if you have so we can all move on because this petty fight needs to end now.” Dean stared at Sam. Who was this guy and what has he done with Dean’s brother? Then everything clicked together and Dean smiled a little, nervously. 

“That’s Gabriel talking in there, isn’t it?” Sam lifted his hand and smacked it hard against the table causing Eros to jump. He snatched his bottle of syrup away, fearing it might topple like the plate. 

“This is not Gabriel, Dean. This is your brother who is getting really sick of your shit.” 

“My…shit?” Dean wasn’t sure whether to be confused or pissed. 

“Actually, Dean I think we would know if it was Gabriel,” Eros chimed in, “And considering my suspicions of the situation, I think we would only see Gabriel if he was really angry. But evidently it is Sam that is angry-” 

“Shut up, Eros!” Both brothers screamed in unison and the angel curled in on himself in his chair. Dean stared at Sam; his jaw clenching and unclenching, and Sam stared at Dean; the fire of irritation sparking in his eyes. He could see Cas still slumped in his peripheral but he was not ready to acknowledge that yet. 

“Now if you would be so kind as to explain what you mean by my shit,” Dean said when he knew he could keep his voice from rising. He was pissed but he didn’t really understand why he was supposed to be pissed. He felt like Sam was fucking with him. 

“Because you won’t tell people how you feel. You won’t tell the people that care about you the most that they matter to you. As a result, those people are terrified of telling you anything because the first thing you want to do is run away. Am I right?” Dean opened his mouth and then closed it again. Cas knew how he felt. He didn’t need to say it and make things all strange between them. Besides, he has said it before. That word. It’s not a big deal. Sam’s face softened a bit, and he leaned towards his brother. 

“I can feel Gabriel in my mind. No matter what Eros says, he is real and I can feel when he is hurt or sad or angry. We have no choice to communicate with each other. So what about you, Dean? Can you feel Castiel too?” Dean thought about this and slowly; cautiously; warily, opened himself towards Castiel. The emotions that flooded into him were overwhelming. Loss, grief, despair, heartache, longing, desire, and yes, love. Unending, unwavering love. Dean closed his stinging eyes before they threatened to spill tears for all the emotions Castiel was feeling. 

_Dean…_ the angel wept in his mind. He reached for Dean in every incorporeal sense. His longing and need for the hunter to not reject him edged on the brink of physical pain. Tears swam in his eyes and his throat burned. Dean could sense all of this but made himself dig deeper. 

Under all the hurt on the surface, Dean could feel a pure golden ring of adoration towards Dean. Respect, devotion, attraction, pride…so many of these things that Castiel felt for him that he didn’t even realize were there. Deeper still and Dean felt the center of Castiel that he held close to his heart. The guilt, the self-loathing. The insecurity and humiliation. The realization that everyone he has ever known has betrayed him in some way. Except for Dean. It wasn’t the programming that led Castiel to fall in love with his. He could see it in the way Castiel thought of himself. He loved Dean because Dean didn’t persecute him. He loved Dean because even though he felt he deserved the beating Gabriel inflicted upon him, he was grateful that Dean cared enough to try to stop it. He wasn’t hot-wired or programmed to feel this way. He felt this way out of his own free will. And really, should Dean have ever questioned that? After all, Castiel has been siding on the side of free will almost since the moment they met. This was what free will meant to him. The ability to love Dean out of choice and not design. 

Dean opened his eyes and looked at the angel. Castiel. His angel. And his heart melted. Cas was slumped so far down in his chair his head almost touched the table. Misery engulfed him like the haze of heat on baked asphalt. Trying to ignore his spectators, Dean slipped out of chair and moved over to stand beside Castiel. He glanced at Sam, who was watching him calmly, and hesitated. Lifting his hand, he placed it gingerly on Castiel’s shoulder. 

“Cas?” he offered but Cas only seemed to sink in on himself. Dean glanced over at Sam who raised his eyebrows in question, and let out a long sigh. No avoiding it. 

“Cas…I haven’t stopped loving you. I’ll…” Dean cleared his throat. “I’ll never stop loving you, Castiel.” Eros made a cooing sound in the back of his throat and if he wasn’t just a child, Dean would throw him through the window. Sam at least was blessedly silent. 

Slowly Castiel lifted his head. He hesitated a moment, and then he turned and raised his face to look at Dean. Instantly, Dean hated himself for getting angry at his angel. Castiel looked torn down and bare. His face was twisted into such despair, and his eyes; those crystal pools of clear blue sky, swam glassy with unshed tears. 

_Cas_ . Dean sent and pulled the angel to his feet. Suddenly spectators didn’t much matter to him. Nothing mattered. Not angel codes and Soul-binding, not witches or ghosts; all that he saw was the hurt in Castiel’s eyes. The hurt that he caused. Dean drew Cas into an embrace, crushing him hard against his chest. His hands trailed along his angel’s back, and his nose breathed in the soft soap scent of Castiel’s hair. Then in the span of a breath they were kissing. Lost in the moment Dean pulled Castiel tighter; desperate to have every surface touching all at once. 

“Dean,” Castiel whispered when lips parted, and the sound of want in his voice made Dean burst open with a sudden lust. He slipped his hands underneath his angel’s jacket and raked fingers along the thin line of his spine. Cas gasped, and Dean hummed appreciatively against his neck. 

“Uh…guys? I think you made up enough now,” Sam chimed from behind them and the reality of the room crashed back on them. Dean pulled away from Castiel…reluctantly, and cleared his throat. Castiel stared at him with wide eyes, and the look on his face was pure adoration. Dean hated himself even more for hurting him. He focused back on his brother, but stayed close to Cas when they returned to the table. 

Dean cleared his throat again, trying to be casual, and glanced around. He took in the lot of them. Sam, smiling sagely, Eros, staring at his hands with his face the color of a camp fire, and then there was Castiel; languidly curling himself around Dean’s arm and nuzzling his face on Dean’s shoulder. No matter how you cut it, the whole thing was awkward. Dean was not blushing. Blushing was for sissys. 

“So,” Sam said after taking in the scene. “Maybe now that there are no more hurt feelings, we can talk about how to get Gabriel a vessel.” 

_Look at him, Sam. The most revered and feared angel in all of heaven, curled around your brother like a cat._ Gabriel was breathless with laughter at the sight. Sam was not as amused. He found it…endearing. He was just glad that Dean finally stopped pushing away a chance at companionship. 

“I already told you,” Eros said, looking all the boy who caught his older brother in the act, “it’s not possible. Gabriel doesn’t exist anymore.” 

“Eros, he took control of my body,” Sam said, frustrated that this boy couldn’t put together what was obviously in front of his face. “He obviously exists.” 

“Samuel, you said he took over your body because he was angry at Castiel. The only reason that he was able do that was _because_ he was angry. Like all undead things in a possession.” 

_Eros is just a boy, Sam. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about._

“Wait a minute,” Dean chimed in, “are you saying Gabriel is like…a poltergeist?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” said Eros, nodding. “He’s a ghost in the machine.” 

“Impossible,” Castiel said. His eyes were closed and he continued to nuzzle against Dean’s arm. His behaviors made Gabriel fall into fits of laughter again. Alive or dead, the angel always did have an off sense of humor. “To be a ghost you have to possess a soul. Angels have no souls.” 

“I was confused about this too, Castiel,” said Eros as he looked everywhere but at his brother. His face was still crimson. “The only thing I can guess is that it’s his Grace.” Suddenly, Gabriel’s laughter cut off as if sliced by a knife. 

“Come again?” Sam asked, half distracted by his angel. 

“It’s not you he’s haunting, Sam. He’s haunting his Grace. The angel essence of a soul. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” 

“Great!” Dean said, shrugging out of Castiel’s pawing, and clapped his hands together. “So we just do a simple exorcism and-“ 

“No!” Sam shouted and the room fell silent. All eyes fell on him. 

_I exist, Sam. I am here, Sam. Tell them, gentle boy. I am here._

“No exorcism,” Sam said firmly, “find another way.” They were silent for a while, all unsure what direction to take. What to say. 

_Sam,_ Gabriel said and his voice sounded lost. _Sam…I don’t want to not exist._

Eros cleared his throat. 

“There might be a way. But…I don’t think it will be exactly what you want.” 

“Anything, please,” Sam swallowed, trying not to sound so needy. “Just do it.” 

“Well…we’ll need to gather a few things first.” 


	36. Chapter 36

As the day stretched into night, Eros vacated the room with a promise to return in the morning, and Sam excused himself to be alone with Gabriel. 

“If we aren’t getting exactly what we want like Eros said, or if things go wrong and…if this is the last night we are together, I want to have a drink or two with my friend,” he said with a smile, and then he was gone with the flap of a wing. Dean wasn’t ever going to get used to that flying thing, and he didn’t even want to ponder how Sam could be drinking with his mental angel buddy. 

Suddenly alone in the room, the two men’s eyes met. Blue to green. And Dean’s stomach lurched. Butterflies? Really? 

“Dean…I’m sorry this evening was so…emotional for me. I know you aren’t very fond of that,” Cas said and Dean shook his head, trying to not feel so awkward. Part of him wanted to pick up where they left off on that kiss, and the other part of him wanted to avoid the whiplash that was bound to follow.   
“Cas is there anything else you need to tell me about all of this? Any other dirty angel secrets I might not be too happy to hear down the road?” Castiel moved towards Dean, closing the space between them. 

“No, Dean. I am so sorry I wasn’t more frank with you. I shouldn’t have doubted your bond to me. I was feeling…insecure with…well my performance lately has been…” Dean brushed a thumb over Castiel’s lips. 

“Shh,” he said softly, and drew Cas closer. He kissed his angel slowly. Took his time. No need getting carried away. The problem with Dean was that he _always_ got carried away. He was very quick to jump in feet first and just fuck until he was spent. Really, it wasn’t all Castiel’s fault that he was struggling with this sex thing. Dean was pummeling him with hot and heavy sex feelings every time their bodies touched. But not this time. Dean was going to take things nice and slow. Real slow. Agonizingly slow. 

Drawing the kiss deeper, Dean’s tongue played along Castiel’s lips which parted to receive him. Feeling the way his body churned the cool fire forming in his chest, Dean pulled away again. Couldn’t heat things up already between them. 

“Dean,” Cas breathed and the want in his voice went right to Dean’s cock. Fuck, but he was making this hard. 

“Lay on the bed, Cas,” Dean responded calmly and his angel obeyed. Pulling off his jacket, Cas loosened his tie and kicked off his shoes as he walked; making a track of discarded clothing leading Dean to where he laid waiting for him. 

Dean smiled to himself, enjoying the way Cas always instantly did what he asked of him. Even now, lying on the bed, looking ever the casual business man, Castiel watched Dean approach and waited to see what Dean wanted him to do. 

Dean let his eyes dance over Cas, but made no effort to join him. Instead he stood at the foot of the bed, and slowly pulled his t-shirt over his head. The length of tan skin underneath shivered a bit in the chill of the air-conditioned room, and Dean sucked a slow breath through his teeth. 

His eyes never left Castiel’s while he undid the fly of his jeans and shimmied them down his legs. Cas licked his lips, drawing the bottom one into a soft bite of his teeth while he watched. 

Casually, Dean slipped the boxers down to follow the jeans and kicked the whole mass of clothing to the side so that he stood bare in front of the other man. He enjoyed Cas’s eyes on him. He saw his angel’s gaze drop to his half-hard cock, and then creep up to his face again. 

It was luscious. It was exotic. It was amazingly arousing, but all the while, Dean was able to keep himself in check. He refused to fall into that tempting spell of lustful thoughtless passion because that obviously was too overwhelming for Castiel. No, he was going to keep things nice and cool. And slow. Painfully, rousingly slow. 

Moving his hand down his body, Dean took up the length of his shaft and started to stroke it. Castiel gasped, and then blushed furiously as his eyes tried to take in everything at once. 

“Dean…please let me do that,” he said in his low I-am-angel-hear-me-roar voice. His breath hitched in a way that was far more arousing than what Dean was doing to himself. His dick came to full attention. 

“No, Cas. I got this covered. Take your clothes off.” Again, his angel responded immediately. Perhaps this was the Soul-binding that Sam had talked about. Dean didn’t care anymore. It meant that Cas trusted him completely and that was enough to keep Dean well in the game. Castiel lifted his hips in the air and slid his pants and boxers off in unison. His socks followed and he tossed it all to the floor. His hands went to the buttons on his shirt as his eyes locked with Deans. 

“Keep the tie,” Dean said softly, and Castiel hesitantly smiled. Working his shirt over his shoulders, he sat up to remove it completely, and then lifted his arms to reach out for Dean. It was then that Dean could feel it. A soft wisp of heat working over his mind, trying to connect with his soul. Castiel’s grace looking for nurturing; yearning for Dean’s desire. Remembering how Eros had instructed him, Dean let his mind slip into that cold place where he hid his emotions inside his soul instead of broadcasting them on the outside. He didn’t turn his emotions off completely; not like before, but pulled them back just a little bit so as not to rush things along. 

Castiel fell back on the bed with a whimper and closed his eyes. His body writhed against the sheets, longing for friction, and the sight was almost enough to tip Dean over the edge. He stilled the hand on his cock. Nice and slow. Very slow. 

Dean realized that things went from embers to raging infernos with Cas and him because he never was really this emotionally and sexually attached to any person like this before. Not any single woman. Not Lisa certainly. Not even that porn star he banged could do it for him like Cas could. 

“Dean,” Cas breathed as he slid his hips back and forth; rubbing his skin against the bed. His eyes remained closed but his face fell into a look of such longing, Dean could only stare. “Touch me, Dean.” His angel was the pure embodiment of sex. Dean swallowed hard and struggled against the powerful lust that was pushing at the confines of his soul. Damn him if Cas wasn’t trying to get them both Grace whipped. 

“How’s the Grace meter looking there, Cas,” Dean asked and Castiel opened his eyes to peer down the length of his body at the hunter standing at his feet. 

“It is well Dean,” he said sternly. “But I am not. I need you to touch me before I fall apart from wanting you so much.” Dean closed his eyes as heat bloomed across his chest. Cas was making this so very fucking hard. Bending, Dean placed one knee on the bed; then another. Slowly making his way crawling up Castiel’s body. 

“You look amazing, angel,” Dean said, his voice raspy and low. He leaned and trailed his tongue along the length of Cas’s shaft causing him to lurch from the bed into the sensation. Dean moved higher, bringing soft lips to the divot in Cas’s hip. The curve of his ribs. The perk of his chilled nipple. Licking and tasting and kissing, Dean explored Cas’s body as he arched and writhed and moaned beneath him. 

“Oh Dean, this is…” his breath caught and he tried again. “This is beyond com… comparison!” Dean smiled around his kisses and trailed the tip of his tongue against Cas’s collarbone. Lifting his head, Dean pulled at Castiel’s arms, bringing them above the angel’s head, and pinning them there. Their eyes met, blue to green, and Dean took Castiel in a slow drawing kiss. Castiel groaned in his mouth. His hips danced and his cock, dripping from neglect, brushed against Dean’s causing him to moan as well. Castiel watched Dean as he lifted his hips again and brushed his shaft against the hunters. Dean shuddered from the slight contact and his head dropped as his eyes slipped shut. 

“Dean…touch me, please. Dean…” Castiel whispered into his ear, and Dean was lost to him. He just couldn’t hold out anymore. Settling his weight, Dean thrust against Castiel’s hip and both men groaned from the contact. Longing and desire leaked from Dean and he could feel Castiel’s Grace sucking everything up. Dean was right on the edge, but so was his angel, and what they had already accomplished far surpassed any previous attempts at sex. With restraint crumbling around him, Dean let himself go. 

Emotions flooded over Cas like a wave of heat, and sex, and unimaginable pleasure, and he gasped loudly from the assault. Dean rutting against him, his body naked and tense on top of Cas’s. Dean moaning and panting in his ear as he trembled on the brink. Dean’s emotions, lust, desire, longing, love; all comingling and transforming into a beacon that burned inside Castiel in ways he never thought possible. 

Cas’s hands came free of Deans grip and he dug fingers into Dean’s back like an anchor in the tidal wave he was surfing. His breath burst out of him in erratic spurts and with each exhalation he offered up a name like a revelation. Like a prayer. 

“Dean…Dean…Dean…Dean…” 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean breathed against his neck and Castiel’s grip tightened. To feel the weight of the hunter against him; to feel the heat and friction against his cock; to feel the ragged wrecked breath of Dean in his ear; it was all he could take. Castiel’s orgasm exploded out of him as he arched and groaned, utterly blissed, into the night. Dean was just behind him, being sent over the edge by Cas going first. Their semen spread hot like molten to pool on Cas’s stomach. 

Instantly, Cas grew defensive. He strained his reach, grappling for his Grace, only to open his eyes in surprise to realize that his grace hadn’t escaped him. He was able to keep it contained. 

“You ok, Cas?” Dean asked and he lifted himself onto his elbows to look at Cas more closely. 

“I am amazing,” was the response Cas could think of, and he broke into an huge smile. Dean returned the smile, relieved, and leaned in to kiss him. Sweet and slow with much less intensity than before. After a moment, he pulled away from Cas to out of the bed. 

“Where are you going?” Cas whined, his face distraught. 

“I need a shower,” Dean announced and made his way towards the bathroom. With a mix of longing and a feeling of forlorn, Castiel watched him from behind. His contentment suddenly jaded in Dean’s absence. It scared him a little to realize how desperately he needed to be by Dean’s side. He was infinitely, euphorically, and eternally Deans. 

At the door to the bathroom, Dean flicked on the light and turned to look back at his spent lover. In Cas’s eyes, he looked holy. 

“You coming, Cas?” He offered and with wry smile. Castiel immediately hopped out of bed. 


	37. Chapter 37

Sam entered the motel room with a whispering sound of Gabriel’s wings, and his eyes fell immediately on Castiel and his brother. They were laying, curled into a tangled spoon, and dressed in only their boxers. The comforter had been tossed aside at some point in the night leaving little modesty to the scene. Castiel, leaning over Dean’s sleeping form, was trailing lazy circles in the hunter’s hair. He looked up when Sam entered and he smiled. 

“Hello, Sam,” he said softly, and Sam turned away blushing. 

“I…uh…I can come back,” he said feeling very out of place. He half expected Gabriel to break into raucous laughter in his mind, but instead the angel felt pensive and sad. 

“No, no need,” Cas said as he pulled away from Dean and got to his feet. “Eros has already visited this morning.” 

“What?” Sam blinked, confused, and then looked around for the other angel. 

“Oh, no he’s gone. He wanted to get out of here just about as quickly as you do. But he gave me instructions to retrieve one more component for his potion to work. A very important and special ingredient. I am to do this and then meet him at your bunker. He wishes to use your lab.” 

“But…won’t I need to be there as well?” Sam asked, and Castiel shook his head. 

“This is going to take some time, Sam. And…” he turned back and looked at Dean. The smile returned to his face. It was sentimental, but heat flashed in his eyes, and Sam tried very hard to look everywhere else; ignoring the fact that Castiel was standing just a few feet away in his underwear. It was just all too awkward. 

Castiel glanced back at Sam and tilted his head curiously. “Well…I thought this would be a good time for you to spend some time alone with your brother.” 

Sam blinked in surprise. He never expected that Castiel would want to leave Dean’s side with the way he was cemented against him at the table the night before. “Are…are you sure?” he asked, and Castiel nodded. 

“That ghost hunt, two cities over? I think you two should go enjoy yourselves. We will call you when the potion is ready.” The thought of a hunt definitely peaked Sam’s interests. It has been far too long since they were out there feeling the adrenaline of a close encounter and the rush of knowing that they had a safety net in each other. Sam offered a weak smile and Castiel returned the gesture. Turning, he walked back over to Dean and sat at the edge of the bed. 

“I…uh…can give you a minute.” Sam said, feeling even more uncomfortable. Gabriel’s sadness swirled and melded with Sam’s anxiety. 

“Please do,” Castiel whispered and leaned over to give Dean a kiss. 

Sam space shifted to stand outside the motel, and squinted at the sudden onslaught of bright sun. 

_I would tell them to get a room but they were already in one,_ Gabriel said sadly. 

_What is up with you all of a sudden?_ Sam asked. They had spent the night in Gabriel’s little strip club laughing and telling funny stories about their brothers. Sam had a few about Dean; Gabriel had a few thousand about all the siblings in his angelic host. It was a good night and it rekindled Sam’s attachment to his newfound angel companion. So why the sudden sadness? Gabriel signed in his mind. 

_I just…kind of envy them, I guess,_ Gabriel said in a small voice. His vulnerable sincerity stunned Sam and he didn’t know what to say. In his heart, he felt something…stirring. 

_Pretty boy, are you blushing?_ Gabriel asked and in an instant he was back to his old comedian self. 

_No!_ Sam retorted and ran the palms of his hands against his red cheeks. Gabe just laughed. Sam walked to the edge of the cement stoop and sat down with his shoes in the gravel. He lifted his head and closed his eyes to warm his face against the sun. 

_When you have a vessel again, I am really going to miss you, Gabe_ , he thought sadly, and the angel took his turn at stunned silence. It was not always easy between them, and Sam was quite certain if he continued to have an angel poltergeist haunt his brain, he was going to go crazy. But…Gabriel’s laughter; his companionship; his advocacy… No matter what the circumstances he always seemed to be on Sam’s side. And he actually talks to Sam. Openly and honestly which was so far removed from any interaction Sam ever had with his brother. He didn’t even realize how dysfunctional the two of them were before Gabriel came into his life. Realizing that Gabe would be in a different vessel and they wouldn’t have the same connection; hell, he won’t even look the same! It made Sam feel so utterly alone. 

_You could build a mountain with all that despair,_ Gabe said softly to him, and Sam could almost sense the angel wrapping his wings around him. It was in that moment that Sam realized that he loved Gabriel. Not in the same way that Dean loved Castiel, but that didn’t mean he loved the angel any less. His emotions were reflected back upon him as Gabriel opened up to Sam and showed him how deeply he cared as well. The longing, the desire, and the deep rooted love and devotion. 

This connection was what it meant to be Soul-bound. This unwavering loyalty and truth that crossed lifetimes and even lingered into death. It took Sam’s breath away. 

The motel door opened and Dean stepped out. Dressed and flushed from whatever he and Cas did to say goodbye to one another, he smiled down at Sam in a way Sam had never seen before. He suspected that it was Dean’s true smile. The one he has kept hidden his entire adult life. The smile that showed he was truly happy. 

“Looks like I’m off the leash for the day!” he said jovially and Sam couldn’t help but return his brother’s smile. 

“Two ghosts; twins, two towns over?” Sam offered. 

“Damn straight,” Dean replied and made his way towards the impala. 

“Where’s Castiel?” Sam asked, trailing behind him. He slipped into the familiar passenger seat and it felt like coming home. 

“Off to work on getting that ghost out of your brain, Sammy. Unfortunately, he thinks it might take a while.” Dean slipped in beside him and turned the key to roar the engine of his car to life. He didn’t seem to notice the frown on Sam’s face. 

“He means a lot to me Dean. I’m not exactly excited about this.” Sam said coolly and Dean turned to look at him. He opened his mouth but words he intended to say slipped off his lips and he nodded instead. 

“Ok,” he said backing out of the parking space, “I get it.” 

They rode quietly for a good part of the trip. Sam consulted his phone for navigation and was able to direct Dean to the small down of Shiloh where the online article originated from. They thought they would question some of the locals and found a hole-in-the-wall diner to start at. 

“You know, there is one thing I can’t seem to figure out,” Dean said as they slipped into a nicely worn booth. “You said that Serrath was trying to take Gabriel out so that it would be easier for something else to take his place. Well…what is that something else? And how did she even know Gabriel was in there in the first place?” Sam looked over the menu, thinking. 

He honestly had no idea. He was so focused on his relationship with the angel in his head that he didn’t seem to give anything else a whole lot of thought. But now, coming from his brother, it seemed very significant. 

“I don’t know,” was all he could come up with, and his brow furrowed as he pondered the idea. 

“Well my guess is, someone wants to possess your ass. It’s either gonna be angel or demon. I don’t think a ghost would have the sense to plan this far ahead. And someone who is able to control a witch as powerful as Serrath; they would have to be pretty damn powerful themselves. Someone like…” Dean trailed off and Sam suddenly looked up, his eyes wide as he met with Dean’s. He always thought that he was the brains between them but Dean certainly had him beat in this one. Funny how his brother becomes perceptive when Sam least expects it. 

“Someone like…Lucifer?” Sam offered and Dean shrugged. He looked around nervously for spectators and Sam couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t easy hearing that name after so long. 

“Yeah…or Michael… But considering you got witch zapped and not me…yeah, I was thinking Lucifer.” Sam swallowed hard and looked down at his hands. Here it comes, full circle, again and again and again. No matter how many times they tried to change fate or stop fate, it always returned with a vengeance. 

“What do we do, Dean?” Sam asked with a tremor to his voice and Dean shrugged. He couldn’t go back there. He couldn’t face Lucifer again. All the years of torment in hell. All the time he spent in the mental hospital with that monster breaking him down and building him up again to break him down some more. The way they tortured him and tormented him…the idea of Lucifer inside him again…taunting him and doing things with his body that made Sam feel like if he could just come undone he could find peace. End it; end existing. Blessed peace. 

“Sam!” Dean said sternly and Sam’s head snapped up. He hadn’t realized he had zoned out. His eyes were wide, he could tell, but with the panic boiling in his stomach he thought he was holding it together rather well. “Sam, we are not going to let anything happen to you. Hell, it might not even be Lucifer. I can’t begin to figure out how he would be able to get out of his cage to cause all this chaos.” 

“Unless he doesn’t know, and this is all Serrath’s doing,” Sam retorted. Serrath. The shadow witch as Gabriel called her. She made him want to shiver. Sam looked up at Dean and his face crumpled into lost despair. “I can’t go back there, Dean. I can’t…” 

“I know, Sammy. You won’t,” Dean said and his jaw worked to contain his own emotions. He looked hard, and protective. It used to always make Sam feel safe when his brother took charge, but lately…Sam didn’t think it could fool him anymore. Dean was just as lost as he was. 

The waitress came to greet them and the brothers ordered lunch. They both silently hoped that if they focused on the hunt, they would get their minds off of larger foes and darker nightmares. 

 

 

Castiel spent enough time following the hunters, and being a hunter himself, to know that all best laid plans took place after nightfall. He reached Amelia Richardson’s house in the blink of an eye. It did not take much effort looking through Sam’s personal effects back at the bunker to know where she lived. Crouching, he glanced at the sun in the sky and anticipated five more hours until dusk. He settled in to a shady spot under a tree in the woman’s back yard and waited. With time on his hands, Castiel’s daydreams drifted to Dean. 


	38. Chapter 38

Something was not right about this hunt. The usual cards had not been dealt and the usual clues had not been found. It gave Dean a sinking feeling in his gut, and he knew all too well to trust his gut on matters such as these. 

“We should bail,” he offered but Sam shushed him. _Shushed_ him! Dean glowered at his brother, stretched across his too-small motel room bed, and thought about calling Cas in for a little smiting. 

Sam was concentrating on a book he had picked up out of the library tracing the lineage of the Westingtons which were apparently a well-known prominent family in Shiloh. About a week ago, the family members of the Westington mansion made their own excuses to skip town for a variety of destinations. Lady Westington and her husband were taking an extended cruise, and the children were all going to visit relatives or perspective camps. The odd thing was that the local staff of the home were unaware that any trips were planned at all, and were given no advanced warning that they would be out of work for the unforeseeable future. The other oddity was that since the Westington’s had eloped, there have been a series of sightings in the house with lights on and movement behind closed curtains. The cops were called once according to the blotter, but found nothing conclusive to investigate. 

The online story of ghosts came from the gardener who was committed still to maintain the grounds of the household. He reported to the hunters that he saw two women; shadowy figures dressed in grey robes or maybe dresses; but it was such a quick glance he could not discern much more. The third thing that bothered Dean was wondering why there were so many sightings of spirits that could influence lights and be visibly seen (which would require a great amount of anger on the spirit’s behalf) when there was no one in the home that might anger them. Dean was wondering if they were not spirits at all. What else made sense? But that also meant they didn’t know what they were up against or if it was even supernatural. 

“Here, this looks suspicious,” Sam said at last and pointed at a picture in the book in front of him. “Lilly Westington. It says she…” he trailed off and his face went slack. Dean tried to push away that feeling in his gut and got up to look over Sam’s shoulder at the picture in his lap. 

“That face looks familiar,” Dean said a bit breathlessly and Sam could only nod quietly in agreement. In the book was an old black and white of a girl with thick back hair pulled tight into a bun. Her grey dress was buttoned tight against her neck and her face wore such a scowl that Dean thought she hadn’t seen any action her entire adult life. Regardless of how miserable she looked in the photo, it was clear that her face bore a stark resemblance to that of a shadowy witch woman they both knew and didn’t love. 

“Serrath,” said Sam and Dean shivered. This was going from bad to worse. 

“We should really rethink this one,” he offered and considered actually calling for Cas after all. If this bitch could command a whole army, she was obviously way out of Sam and Dean’s league. And now there were two of her? Dean was going to have to question that gardener again and see how much he drank. 

“It could always be someone else from the family haunting the house,” said Sam, “but as Sherlock once said about coincidences, the universe is rarely so lazy.” Dean glanced over at his brother and then shook his head. If Sam wanted to be a fucking poet he should have stayed at Stanford. 

“So what’s the plan, Sammy? Should we bring the cavalry in, get some salt, and dig up this bitch’s grave?” Dean asked and Sam shook his head. 

“I don’t think she’s dead Dean.” 

“How can she not be dead? This photo is from 1902!” 

“I know,” Sam said and ran his fingers through his long hair. “But the way she could phase in and out of shadows…and the way she used that scepter made from a demon spirit...it all screams witch to me.” Dean supposed Sam had a point. “Here, in this book it says she was rumored to have some ties to cult rituals and satanic followings although nothing could be proven. Is it possible she has ties with demons or hell?” 

“If that’s the case, then why this house? And why are there two of her?” Sam could only shrug at Dean’s questions. 

“I think the best thing to do is a stake out,” Sam offered and Dean rolled his eyes. He was an action man. Go in and do and get the damn thing done. The idea of sitting in a car with Sam all night was not high on his list. Not when he could be with Cas, drinking a beer and watching the new episode of Dr. Sexy, M.D. 

“Fine,” he said reluctantly and reached for the keys, “but we’re getting something to eat before we go. Preferably something greasy…or pie flavored.” This time, Sam rolled his eyes. 

Castiel space shifted into the familiar bunker that he once thought might be his home. Maybe, when this was all behind them, it actually could be his home. His mind flashed through images of Castiel cooking for Dean, or bringing him exotic sandwiches. Watching Dean sleep in his bed and dusting around all of Deans weapons on his wall collection. Castiel blushed at the thought of Dean watching him work from the bed, and then getting up and doing that thing he did two nights ago. That thing where he placed his tongue- 

“Oh, good brother, you are finally here,” Eros chimed in and Castiel almost dropped the burden he was holding. Eros had not even snuck up on him. He was just that out of it. Castiel’s blush deepened and he pulled his eyes away from his brothers. He really needed to get his head out of the gutter. His brother looked at him askance but Cas had no intentions of sharing his secret thoughts. Instead, he walked towards Eros holding out a large mass concealed under his trench coat. 

“Ah, you brought the vessel! Delightful!” Eros offered and reached for the form. 

“Eros,” Castiel began and then hesitated. Eros took the vessel from him and motioned for him to follow as the younger angel made his way back to the Winchester lab. Castiel swallowed and tried again. “Eros, I am not sure if this is a good idea,” he said as he walked behind his brother into the smaller lab room filled with a variety of racked jars and equipment. Eros had a table cleared already and gently placed the vessel on it so as not to wake the Grace induced slumber. 

“Oh? Why is that?” Eros said, tilting his head and looking at his brother. 

“Well first, we didn’t ask permission of the vessel,” Cas offered and Eros chuckled. 

“It’s not an angelic possession, it’s a spiritual possession. They never ask permission, Castiel.” 

“Yes but-“ 

“And it’s not like this vessel means anything of significance to make such a big deal about asking permission. Not like the Winchester vessels during Armageddon.” 

“But if they loved each other-“ Castiel suggested and Eros’s face fell into a scowl. 

“They didn’t love each other!” he said, getting exasperated. “They were Soul-bound. Nothing more. I needed a vessel that was Soul-bound to Sam. We are just lucky to find this one.” 

“Is it not the same, Eros?” Castiel asked with a tilt of his head. “The binding of hearts and the binding of souls, are they not the same for all species on earth?” 

“No!” Eros shouted and stomped towards Castiel with angry conviction. Castiel took a step back in surprise. “Soul-bound are not soul _mates_ , Castiel! Have you forgotten who I am, big brother? I am Eros, Leader of the Garrison of Class Cupid angels sent to earth to unify hearts and merge soul mates,” Eros shouted as he closed in on Cas, “I have influenced countless generations through procreation and design. I and I alone designed the chemistry of love. The hormone cocktail needed to produce such an effect is beyond even your comprehension. Our father…he only created obligation. I suspect even he did not possess the understanding to create such a free feeling as love.” Eros stepped into the space for Cas that Dean always referred to his ‘no-fly zone’. Castiel didn’t like to think it was a challenge, but Eros’s eyes lit with a fire that ignited the passion of his work. Eros was right. Castiel had forgotten who he was. 

“Eros…I’m sorry,” Castiel said frankly and the fire winked out of his brother’s eyes. He shrugged uncomfortably. 

“No…I…let’s just forget it,” he mumbled and turned back to the table where he had placed his burden. 

“Gabriel isn’t going to like this,” Cas said when Eros pulled the coat away from the sleeping vessel. “This vessel is so different from the one he had before.” 

“Gabriel is a ghost in the machine. He can’t expect to have any more than this, and really Castiel I am uncertain if this will even work. He might just vanish all together.” Then Eros looked up at his brother and a twinkle shown in his eye. With a smile spreading across his lips, the angel looked ever the boy again. “But Castiel, won’t it be fascinating to try? I can’t wait to see what happens!” 

Cas returned the smile but not the passion. Try and fail or try and succeed, Cas was certain that Gabriel would cross all barriers in life and death to see Castiel killed for this. It was a thought sobering enough to finally get his mind off of Dean. 


	39. Chapter 39

Dean shifted in his seat and tried to stretch out his legs. Three hours into the stake out and not much has changed in the house across the street. It was hard to see many of the windows through the enclosed trees setting the reclusive house back into shadows, but no lights showed behind the rustle of curtains. Then, when Dean had thought it might be better to get thirty winks and let Sam take over, his eye caught the shifting of movement from up the street. 

“Look there,” he said pointing, and Sam blinked as he sat up. Good thing Dean didn’t nod off considering the way Sam hitched a ride to la-la land. Looking up the street, they saw a shadowy figure dragging a struggling form down the road with it. It looked to Dean like a human writhing in a black cloud as it swirled in tornado fashion around him. Slowly, they made their way towards the house. 

“Ready?” Dean asked, and Sam showed the demon blade in his hand. Dean gripped the hilt of his colt. 

“Dean, maybe we should wait. We don’t know how to take her out yet,” Sam said warily. 

“We wait, he dies. Let’s go.” Dean opened the car door and Sam followed suit. They stuck to the shadows, avoiding the sparsely staggered street lamps, and circled around behind the witch. 

“Please! No!” the man’s voice called out and as Dean got closer he could make out the glint in the man’s eyes which stopped him cold. The eyes were pitch black. 

“Sam…it’s a demon,” Dean said as he drew up short. Sam looked at him, not sure what direction to take, but Dean always took the philosophy to shoot first and ask questions later. Raising the colt, he fired into the smoke swirling around the demon man. The bullet grazed the milky cloud, and where it touched, the black smoke smoldered red. A sound like a hiss seemed to rustle through the trees, and the smoke swirled faster; coagulating; forming, and suddenly a shape of a woman was standing in front of them. The demon, now freed, fell to the ground and scrambled towards the trees where it vanished into the hedge. 

“You’re welcome!” Dean called after it. 

“Ssssaammm,” the creature hissed and her voice sounded low, dry and almost alien. The creature lunged at them and Sam pivoted to the side, reaching out to scratch at the woman with his demon etched blade. The knife caused the same effect, a red smolder in the smoke, but it quickly faded as though it was never there. The woman shifted to charge at them again. 

Dean backed away, trying to gain some space between them until he could figure out what the next move was. Maybe they could find some iron somewhere? Glancing at Sam, he realized that his brother was standing his ground. 

“Sam, no!” Dean called out, but Sam appeared to be listening to a different voice. As the witch lunged towards him, Sam threw the knife to the side. It tumbled into the yard, concealed in the grass. 

“Sam!” Dean shouted again, and watched his brother lift his hands out in front of him. Suddenly, Serrath shrieked as her body seemed to collapse in on itself. Sam twisted his arms, like he was turning an unseen ball around in his hands. The smoky figure shifted and warped into a smaller form until it took on the shape of a ball like the one Sam seemed to be holding. He hands came together, drawing the ball smaller, and smaller. Moments later, it winked out of existence, taking the last screams of Serrath with it. 

“Fuck!” Dean breathed, not able to think of a better word to describe what he had just seen. “Sam…what?” 

“Gabriel’s Grace. I am still able to wield it.” 

“And did you know this before we got here?” Dean asked, exasperated but Sam just shrugged. Where the witch once stood, something glittered in the air and Dean tentatively took a step forward. Coming upon it, Dean realized it was a necklace of sorts and when he reached out to take it, the power holding it cut out so that it fell softly into his hand. Dean glanced at Sam, and then turned to examine the thin cord holding a trinket resembling a sheep head. 

“So this is all that’s left of her?” Dean offered, “She wasn’t a very impressive fight.” 

“That’s because it wasn’t Serrath,” a voice chimed from behind them and the brothers turned to see Crowley standing in the street holding the recently rescued demon by his ear. “Hello boys.” 

“Crowley,” Dean said scowling but the energy of his conviction wasn’t quite all there. The past few months have shown Dean that while angels can be bad and demons can be good, he really didn’t have the right to persecute one more than the other when he’s better off just not trusting any of them. Except for Cas. He trusted Cas to the end. The bearded Demon, dressed sharply in a black suit and blood red tie, seemed all the world as though he just happened to be out for a casual stroll. 

“Dean…Sam…so good to see you both again,” he said in his familiar European lilt. Releasing his demons ear, he shoved the creature on his back, making him take a few stumbling steps forward. “This is Chester. Tell them what happened Chester.” The demon glanced at the hunters and then at his master, and shivered in his meat suit. 

“I was just…minding my business,” he said in a shaky voice and Dean could only imagine what that meant. “Word spread that demons were going missing in the area and I didn’t want to make any waves, you know? So…I was making my way home after…dinner and…suddenly this smoke was all around me and I couldn’t move! I couldn’t…” 

“So if it wasn’t Serrath, what was it?” Dean asked and the demon cowered. Crowley took a step forward and casually rested his hand on the man’s shoulder. Leaning in, he whispered in the demon’s ear in a low voice. 

“This body his compromised.” A moment later, the man threw back his head, and the demon housed within him abruptly fled in a torrent of black smoke. The body collapsed in the street, and Crowley turned back to where the hunters stood. “It seems that you and I need to have a little talk.” 

 

Castiel watched, mesmerized, as his brother danced around the lab table. Cas has been a part of many spell casting in his day. Incantations, blood sacrifice, and a hundred other magics that involved a variety of ingredients. He also saw demon magic, involving more…intimate transgressions between willing parties. He has not ever, however, seen anything like what Eros was doing. Flames licked at glass bottles with tubes attached to the top; retaining the vapors within. Other smaller bottles mixed and swirled with liquids that Castiel couldn’t even really identify. 

Reaching into a satchel, Eros gently pulled out a small crystal that he held up to peer at in the light before nodding to himself. While it appeared to be a crystal, Cas knew it was so much more than that as well. 

“Eros,” Castiel breathed in awe but his brother ignored him. In his hand, he held the essence of an angel. Fallen Grace. It made Castiel’s skin crawl to be near it, knowing what could happen and what did happen with Gabriel. Leaning over a shallow bowl, Eros placed the crystal within it and maneuvered tubes so that the vapor from his bottles spread over it. Slowly, the crystal appeared to…melt. “Eros, this is dangerous. What if this angel Grace is haunted like Gabriel’s was?” 

“I’m not putting it in the vessel, Castiel. I just need the energy to fuel the connection.” Turning his attention away from the bowl, Eros grabbed two vials and mixed them together. As soon as the liquids connected, they churned and shifted into a deep swirling purple. It reminded Castiel of the vial of liquid he drank what seemed like a lifetime ago. 

“Please, Castiel,” Eros said as he dumped the purple liquid into an oral syringe, “feed this to the vessel. It will allow for the connection between Soul-bound to be more receptive.” Castiel rose and walked to his brother. Gingerly taking the vial, he eyed Eros sideways and hesitated. 

“I…am having doubts about this,” Cas said frankly. 

“Have them after you prep the vessel, Castiel. The timing is imperative if this is going to happen tonight.” 

“Tonight?” Castiel blinked in surprise. “I thought…you said this was going to take a while.” 

“To get those humans out of my hair? Yes, Castiel. I said what I needed to, but in truth… I lied.” Turning from his work, Eros looked up at his brother with an indifferent expression. “I am not doing this for them, brother. I am doing this for you. Because you’re happiness means more to me than anything this side of heaven.” Castiel opened his mouth, searching for what to say, but Eros was already turning back to his work. “Now please prep the vessel, Castiel. This ends tonight.” 

 

Dean shifted on Baby’s seat as his eyes scanned the street once more. Behind him, Crowley’s presence was like needles boring into his neck. 

“Ok Crowley,” he said once he was satisfied the action was over for a while, “what’s going on?” 

“Lucifer,” Crowley muttered and both the brother’s groaned. So they knew the score then. No surprise there. “He’s nested snug in his cage. All the way down in the deep pits of hell just where I want him to be.” Crowley leaned forward and rested his arms on the front bench of the car, looking snarky. “Then this Serrath bitch-“ 

“Witch,” both brothers corrected and then glanced at each other. 

“…witch…well. Let’s just say, this is not the first time I have heard of her. Did you ever hear the story about how Lucifer fell?” 

“Sure,” Sam offered, “Lucifer couldn’t stop fighting with father and when the situation wasn’t resolved, he was cast out of heaven.” 

“Father?” Dean asked and Sam looked at him puzzled. “You just said father. Not _his_ father…just…father,” Dean said. Sam turned away from Dean, and tilted his head, doing that mind conversation thing he does all the time now. It was really starting to rub Dean the wrong way seeing Sam like that. They needed to get that friggin’ angel out of his skull. 

“Anyway,” Crowley continued and Dean glanced back at the demon before turning his attention to the street. “It is said that Lucifer’s first action on earth was to lay claim to his first demon.” 

“Lilith,” Dean offered and Crowley reached out and patted his head which just irked him all the more. 

“Yes,” Crowley purred, smiling at Dean and then at Sam, “Lilith. Quite the slice of cake, that one was, wasn’t she? Anyway, what is not so openly explained in the history books was what Lucifer did before he found Lilith.” Sam suddenly turned, and gave Crowley his full undivided attention. Well good for him that he can shut off Gabriel radio for a demon but not for his brother. 

“You see,” Crowley said, perking up. He loved to monologue to an attentive audience. “There is something angels have programmed into their coding that attaches them to humans-“ 

“Yes, we know already,” Dean snapped. “Let’s skip past that.” Crowley frowned at Dean and Dean instantly regretted letting his agitation run his mouth for him. 

“Very well…” Crowley said slowly, “Well then if you know everything you should know that Serrath was Lucifer’s human sentinel.” Sam gasped. He stared wide-eyed at Crowley and his mouth fell open. His breath suddenly quickened, coming in short panicked breaths. 

“Sammy,” Dean ventured but it was as though he hadn’t even spoken. Sam was transfixed, staring into Crowley’s curious eyes. “Sam!” Dean shouted and his brother shifted his head to look at Dean. “Block him out, Sam.” Dean said sternly and Sam swallowed hard. His breath slowed, and after a moment, he nodded. Crowley quietly watched the exchange, his eyes dancing between the brothers; taking it all in. When Sam looked like he wasn’t going to go postal, Dean turned back to Crowley to get them back on track. 

“So, Serrath is Soul-bound to Lucifer. Great. What did he do with her when he found her?” 

“He killed her,” Crowley said softly. “An act so unspeakable…so defiant of God, that it formed hell in the process. Serrath, being the first soul to occupy hell, Lucifer locked her away in a cage of her own. His one weakness he could not let be used to exploit him. Somehow…that cage is now empty. Now these…shadows are crawling all over the place snatching up my demons. They can’t be killed because they don’t really exist. But she is out there pulling the puppet strings…somewhere. I can feel it in my bones.” Sam and Dean looked at each other, exchanging volumes in their glance, and then both turned to face Crowley. The demon sat back once more, satisfied he enthralled his audience, and smiled. “Serrath is free from her cage, boys, and for whatever reason, she wants Lucifer to be too.” 


	40. Chapter 40

"So what do we do now?" Sam asked. It was hard to focus when Gabriel was an utter mess in his mind. 

_How could he do it? No angel could be so evil! The pain he must have felt! To kill his Soul-bound!_ And on and on and on. Lucifer's actions derailed him, but what worried Sam was the profound debilitating guilt Gabe felt for abandoning his family in heaven. He regrets not trying harder to help convince Lucifer to stay. Sam worried the feeling might be strong enough to allow Gabriel to take possession of his body again. He could do without that little slip happening once more. 

"Well," Crowley said in his husky voice. He scratched at his beard and let out a sigh. "It would seem that we want the same thing. Maybe for different reasons but...I am willing to come to an agreement." 

"Of course you are," Dean said with a dry chuckle. 

_We can't let her win. Can't let Lucifer out. Father, what he'd do to me if he knew I was alive. I have failed him. Failed all of them!_

"Stop it!" Sam hissed, and pushed Gabriel back into his cage. He didn't like what was happening. He didn't know what to do or how to console his friend. He felt helpless and could only take solace in knowing he was doing everything he could to avoid Lucifer's return. For both their sakes. They might not be able to drive all the angels back to heaven, but they can at least keep that angel locked away in hell. 

"Sam!" Dean shouted and Sam jerked back to reality. Both men were staring at him. 

"Sorry...I'm...uh, I'm okay now." He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. 

"Are their bats in your belfry, Moose?" Crowley rasped, "I can't have one of my prize fighters not up to snuff." 

"He's fine," Dean snapped, "aren't you, Sammy?" Sam could only nod numbly. 

"Well," Crowley went on, "in any case here are my terms. Being that Serrath is plucking up demons, I will issue a temporary reprieve to my masses. I will have them all return to hell; wiping the earth clean, until that witch can be thrown back in her cage again." 

"And what do you want in return?" Sam asked, blinking his eyes back into focus. 

"It's rather simple, really," Crowley said with a smirk and added a dramatic pause. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice for emphasis. "I want each and every amulet you recover from your efforts to take her down." 

"What, you mean like this?" Dean asked and held up the sheep's head trinket he had recovered from Serrath’s shadow. Crowley hissed, reaching for it, but Dean snatched his hand away. "And what's so special about this, huh?" 

"It's mine!" Crowley growled and his voice sounded like thunder. He paused a moment, closing his eyes, and took a steadying breath. "She is using demons to make those amulets. I want those demons returned to me." Sam shot a worried glance at Dean and knew from his expression that he was thinking the same thing: if she was using demons to make these amulets, what else was she making? Another scepter maybe?" Sam couldn't decide if this was good or bad. Could he exploit this somehow or was it far too risky? He suspected the later. Gabriel was far too distraught to help him with any sort of angelic wisdom so Sam decided to not decide. For now. 

"Alright," Dean said with a shrug, "fair enough. You can get your demons back." 

"I am willing to withdrawal my people for two weeks. That should be plenty of time for you to eradicate this bitch of a witch for me. That is...as long as you don't dally." Sam rolled his eyes at Crowley. Funny how all of a sudden he presumes they are working for him. And are they not? 

"And what about over there?" Dean said, motioning towards the house, "Are there any demons in that house?" 

"Oh yes," Crowley said and his face darkened. "There are almost a hundred demons in there." Sam could feel a cold chill start at his neck, and run deep down his spine. 

"You better spread the word that we're on their side for once," Dean whispered. 

"Consider it already done," Crowley said with a smile. "I would never like my prize fighters get harmed. Well, at least not by demon kind. Serrath however..." 

"Leave that witch to us," Dean said reaching for his door, "Sammy here has a secret weapon." 

  
  
  


Castiel looked down at the vessel and then over to his brother. Was this the right decision? So many times he followed others blindly, trusting in their good intentions, only to be deceived in the end. But Eros was different, wasn't he? Castiel tried to chalk it up as his own self-doubt that put him so on edge. 

"Attach the dynamap to the vessel so we can monitor heart rate. It's time to begin," Eros said as he walked over carrying his shallow bowl of fallen Grace. The essence looked milky and dull but still swirled and glowed like the angelic host. Castiel could feel his stomach lurch looking at it. Doing as instructed, he affixed the blood pressure cuff and then stood back waiting further instruction. 

"Brother, I'm afraid this is where things get messy," Eros said. He rounded the table and stood next to his brother, looking at the work in front of him. "Magic is involved and there is always an element of chance in magic. I used to think such things never had a place in science, but when it comes to manipulating Grace and soul, no energy source could be channeled through something less powerful than magic." 

"What are you going to do?" Castiel asked with a slight tremor in his voice. Eros turned to study him. 

"I'm going to create a vacuum. I am going to use this vacuum to suck the Soul-bound right out of Samuel's head and link it to this Soul-bound vessel. With luck, everyone will survive the night." 

"Is Sam at risk?" Castiel asked, alarmed. 

"It's is unlikely he will be harmed physically. Mentally however, the experience may be...painful." 

"No Eros," Castiel said, his eyes wide with the sinking dread he was feeling, "we can not do this. There has to be another way." 

"Castiel," Eros said sadly. "In such a short time, I have grown to love you more than anything. More than toys or maple syrup or adventure... But I discovered today that there is just one thing I love more than even you. Do you know what that is?" Castiel bit his bottom lip and shook his head. Tension and apprehension roiled in his mind, mixing with grief and pity. Eros took a step towards the older angel, closing all distance between them, and resting his hands on Cas' s chest for balance, he got on his tip toes to brush a kiss against Castiel’s cheek. Then he turned and placed those lips against Castiel’s ear and Cas bent forward to meet him. 

"The thing I love most in this world, Castiel...is discovery." Ice sliced through Castiel as Eros's weave of Grace caught him off guard. Suddenly he was plunging; drifting, ever faster going into a deep abysmal sleep. Castiel was out before his body hit the floor. 

  
  
  


"Something is wrong," Dean said, and he paused in the hallway of the house. They had already eradicated two more shadow witches and Crowley casually trailed behind them with three sheep head amulets decorating his neck. They were making their way to the basement when a wave of emotions overtook Dean. It was Cas. Fear...grief...sadness? Why would he be feeling these things? An instant later, the emotions were gone and replaced with peaceful tranquility. Dean strained to sense more but his angel was just too damn far away. 

"What is it?" Sam whispered and Dean shook his head. 

"Nothing...uh...Cas. It's gone now." He dare not say any more with Crowley breathing down their necks, and Sam got the gist of it anyway. He nodded and they moved on. 

Reaching the basement, the three men angled themselves to the side of the opening and Dean reached for the door. The door flung open before Dean could even turn the knob, and two more shadow witches skidded into the hall. They looked identical to each other, grey smoky women in long dresses, which made sense in the theory that they both manifested from the same person. Sam made quick work of the two but a third slipped out and charged right at Dean. Making quick decision between demon blade and colt, Dean chose the blade that he had picked up outside, and snaked towards the shadow as a counter strike. Caught off guard by his advances, she hesitated enough for Dean to get in close, and he slashed into her neck. The cord severed that held the sheep amulet to her chest and the shadow instantly winked out of existence. 

"Found another way to kill them," Dean said, pleased with himself, and a breathless Sam nodded appreciatively. Crowley quietly collected the amulets discarded on the floor. 

They cautiously crept down the wide staircase that lead into a stone-worked basement. Everything in the house screamed money. The basement stretched in either end of the staircase and curved into sights unknown. 

"Crowley, do you sense any demons down here?" Sam asked and the king of hell nodded. 

"This way," he said softly and then pushed past them to go down the hall to the left. They passed two doors and arrive at the third door on the right when Crowley announces that a small demon army was nestled inside. Hard to believe so many could fit into such a small room. Noting the door was locked, Dean nods to Sam who produces lock picks from up his sleeve. He makes quick work of the lock, and moments later the door creaks open on a squeaky hinge to reveal a darkened room inside. 

"Crowley, can you give us some light, here?" Dean asked. 

"I'm not a bloody angel," Crowley scowls, and then he leaned into the room to flip a light switch on the wall. The room in front of them illuminates on a series of stringed lights. Against every wall there was a table and on each take had a variety of different items. Swords, staffs, baubles, boxes. It looked to Dean like some renaissance faire flea market and sadly reminded him of Charlie. Crowley whistled through his teeth. 

"They're demons," he whispered in a gravelly tone, "every last one of them." 

"What are they for? What do they do?" Asked Sam, a little on edge. 

"Some of them...nothing. Failed experiments," said Crowley as he strode further into the room. He reached a table and picked up a foot long black rod about an inch in width. "While others...this one shatters bone on impact." Dropping it back to the table, he picked up a small velvety red box. "This one can trap a soul for all eternity." Crowley turn then and studied a table of long rods that almost resembled rebar. 

"Now that's interesting," he huffed. 

"What? What do you see?" Dean absolutely loathed not knowing what was going on and having to rely on Crowley for answers. He wished Cas was with them. If he knew what was going on Cas wouldn't feel so relaxed and drowsy in Dean's mind. 

"All off these do the same thing," Crowley said as he lifted one of the bars for closer inspection. "In a variety of different strengths and distances, but they all act as a wormhole. Or maybe...a vacuum?" 

"A wormhole long enough to reach hell and Lucifer?" Dean asked and Crowley threw his head back in a brief cynical laugh. 

"All of these combined could not bore to Lucifer. But if it was long enough...it might work." Dean swallowed hard. 

"Ok let's get some bags, gather all these things up, and get out of here before Serrath realizes some of her puppets went missing and decides to-" 

Sam threw his head back and screamed. The sound of it made Dean feel as though his blood was curdling and he crouched down looking for the source of an assault. His scream seemed to never end, and when it came apparent no foe had entered the room, Dean looked to his brother in horror. 

"Sammy?" Sam collapsed to the cement floor, smacking his head in the process, and writhed where he laid as his screams dwindled to a desperate keening through clenched teeth. 

"Get your Moose under control, Squirrel!" Crowley shouted over Sam's ruckus. His eyes were wide and looking all around. "Something's coming! In fact, many somethings are coming!" 

"Sam!" Dean shouted, and shook his brother violently, but Sam wouldn't respond. Turning on his side, he curled into a ball and shook from whatever unseen force influenced him. "Crowley, we have to get out of here." 

"I know," Crowley growled through his teeth. He still looked around the room, eyes wide and close to panic. 

"Do something, Crowley! Zap us out of here!" 

"How many times do I have to tell you," Crowley said as he reached for a curved bull horn resting amongst the scattering of tableware. "I'm not a bloody angel!" He turned and pointed the horn at Sam and Dean while he blew into the other end. Suddenly Dean felt himself being whisked off his feet and he crashed through a basement window to be ejected onto the sidewalk outside. 

Dean rolled onto his back, groaning and wincing in pain, and noted a long bloody gash running up his leg. It was bleeding pretty bad. Fuck but he missed Castiel. Why wasn’t the angel zapping over to him? Couldn’t he tell from Dean’s emotions that he's in a world of hurt? He didn't even want to think of the possible answers to those questions. Like maybe his angel found this to be the perfect chance to skip town and exited stage left? No. Not Cas. Not anymore. 

"Sam!" Dean croaked and reached for his brother. 

"N...N-" the syllables pushed through the clench of his teeth. His whole body was retching and writhing as he thrashed on the sidewalk. 

"Gotta get up, Sam! Got to get out of here!" Crowley was nowhere in sight and Dean suspected he stayed behind. To stall for the hunter’s sake or to protect his new items, Dean didn't know. 

"N...n...n..." 

Dean removed his belt and cinched it over his leg to slow the bleeding. They had no time left of the brief head start they were given. Leaning over, he pulled at Sam with all his might to bring the younger hunter to his feet. Sam was doubled over, retching in the back of his throat, but he was able to sprint towards the car in a lopsided jaunt. 

"Come on, Sam! Almost there!" Dean rounded the car and opened the passenger door for his brother. Just as Sam rounded the car behind him, he lost his footing in the freshly dewed grass along the sidewalk and slipped sideways to land hard on his ribs. The impact knocked the wind out of Sam, and his mouth gave way to one word. 

"N- No!" Sam screamed and retched and writhed as a plume of Grace expelled from his body and vanished into night sky. "No! No! No!" 

He wouldn't stop screaming, and Dean was seriously starting to freak out. Was that Gabriel that just left Sam's body? But Eros said it might take days. Then Dean's mind put emphasis on the word might. Panic gripped him. If Eros deceived them about this, what else was he capable of? 

"Castiel!" 


	41. Chapter 41

_Castiel!_

Castiel woke with a start. He sat up immediately and drew in a sharp inhale of breath. Looking around, his eyes immediately sought out a grinning Eros. 

“It’s about time you woke up, I released you ten minutes-“ Castiel lifted his hand and slammed Grace into Eros so hard that he flew back against the wall. Castiel pinned his brother there, glaring at him, while he found his footing. “Cas-Castiel!” Eros managed through clenched teeth. 

“Why did you put me under,” Cas roared. This was not a game anymore. Dread roiled through him, overtaking every other thought or emotion, at the implication of what happened while he was unconscious and powerless to stop it. 

“B-because…you would have tried t-to stop me,” Eros managed to say. Cas assumed that the force of Grace he had on the boy made it increasingly difficult for him to breath but he cared very little at that moment. He walked across the room to where Eros was still suspended against the wall and glared at him. 

“Was Sam hurt?” Castiel asked with danger in his tone. 

“I assume so, but-“ Eros keened as Castiel pushed harder against his vessels ribs with his Grace. His eyes glowed intensely blue from his fury and slowly, Castiel unfurled his wings. Eros gasped at the intimidating display which turned into more of a wheeze, and squeezed his eyes shut to not have to look at his brother. 

“Why did you do this? Look me in the eye and tell me why you did this!” Castiel yelled but Eros refused to meet the challenge in his glare. Cas shook with the anger inside him, and felt it boiling over as his Grace rattled the jars; tossing them against the walls, and shifted the furniture in the room. The lights above them burst one by one, until only the backup generator lights remained. 

“I…did…it…for…you,” Eros managed to breath, “for…all…of…you.” Cas suddenly released the younger angel, and Eros collapsed to the ground gasping for the air his vessel desperately needed. Castiel could only stare at him. The words they just exchanged…it sounded so much like a night long ago. When Cas himself was caught in a ring of angel fire and Dean asked him to look the hunter in the eye and tell him he wasn’t working for Crowley. 

Castiel swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. He had been so lost then. So prideful and refusing to rely on his friends who, at that time he would admit, he thought were beneath him in spite of his bond. He took matters into his own hands. He did what he thought was best for everyone when in truth, it was only what was best for him. Was this boy any different? Desperate for discovery, he held over the belief that he was doing what was best for them all. 

“Oh Eros,” Castiel said mournfully, and softly his anger ebbed away, “you have so much to learn about being human.” Eros coughed once and then lifted his head to finally look into Castiel’s eyes. His face was twisted in grief and hurt. Betrayal and confusion quivered his bottom lip, and bitter heartbreak slaked tears from his eyes. Castiel didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to make this right between them or if it was far too late to try. He had hurt Eros deeply in his anger, and his brother couldn’t understand why. 

“Eros…” Castiel began and reached out his hand to help his brother up but the younger angel looked away. With a flap of his wings, Eros fled into the night. Castiel sighed. The boy was angel warded now. It would be a much bigger challenge to chase after him. But he would try. Maybe if he- 

_Castiel!_ Cas jerked his head to the west. Towards Dean. Something was wrong. Searching for the hunter in his mind, he found him in a state of pure panic. Pain from an injury…fear for his brother and…fear for Castiel? 

“Shit socks,” Castiel cursed, and then chased the call to his Soul-bound. 

 

This was bad. Beyond bad. Dean had been in some rough scrapes in his time, but this took the cake. Clutching his knife, he watched as three shadow witches edged closer to him. His leg was throbbing, half numb from the pain and useless. He tried to stand twice only for it to give out beneath him. His head spun from the blood loss, and Sam… Dean glanced at his brother. 

Sam was rocking back and forth on the curb. His eyes were wide and haunted but seeing nothing around him. His mouth hung slack, and Sam…little Sammy Winchester, was openly sobbing. Never had Dean seen him like this. Not since he was three years old and he fell off an embankment. He cut himself up pretty good during the tumble, but when he went to their dad crying, dear old dad smacked him on his head and told him to act like a Winchester. From that point forward, he did. 

Sure a Winchester cried; silent tears when confessions needed to be made. Yeah, Dean might have broken down a little and wept in the dark seclusion of a private room…or a distant meadow. But this… 

“Sam…I could use your help here,” Dean pleaded yet again. He has thus far been unsuccessful in snapping his brother out of it. 

“He’s gone, Dean! He’s gone! He’s gone!” and again Sam broke into open wails and weeping. He was an utter lost cause. Looking back to the witches, Dean slid back and rested against the front of his impala. This was so fucking far beyond bad. His mind scrambled for a plan but nothing came to mind. No way out. 

“Castiel!” Dean shouted to the sky, and then lowered his head to watch the witches again. The pain of his leg drowned out all thought. The screams of his brother drowned out all sound. Dean gripped the hilt of the knife in a white knuckled fist and waited for the first shadow to strike. 

A whistling sound cracked through the air like a bomb falling from the sky, and a second later the ground suddenly shook from the impact. And just like that, there he was. Castiel. Making the most impressive entrance since they first met so many years ago. His wings; _fuck they looked amazing_ , were spread wide to show his power, and his whole body hummed with his Grace. In his right hand, he held his angel sword. 

“About time you showed up,” Dean mumbled, but he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. 

“Dean, close your eyes!” Castiel commanded and Dean wasted no time asking for explanations. Diving towards his brother, he knocked Sam onto his side and placed a hand over both of their eyes. The glow from the street heated his skin like a refreshing hot shower, but then flowed away a few seconds later, returning the world to darkness. Hesitantly, Dean cracked his fingers to peek out and suddenly Cas was on him. 

“Dean…oh, Dean no,” his angel cooed as he ran his hands over the hunters face, his ribs, and his leg. Castiel placed his fingers on Dean’s head and the numbing pain of his leg vanished with a wash of cool healing through his body. Dean gasped, and Castiel’s lips were suddenly upon his. Kissing him, caressing him, bombarding him with soothing comforting mental images. 

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” he said between kisses, “I didn’t” _kiss_ “know you were hurt” _kiss_ “I was knocked unconscious” _kiss_ “please forgive me.” Gently Dean got ahold of Castiel’s shoulders and pulled him away. A glance behind Cas confirmed the streets were empty; no shadow witches lurking at the moment, and that Castiel’s wings went back to whatever alternate dimension they sprung from which was somewhat disappointing. 

“Cas, it’s alright. You’re here. You saved me. Thank you.” Castiel beamed at this and pulled Dean into a tight hug. Soft sobbing behind them reminded Dean that they had much larger issues at hand. He pulled away from Cas and turned to see Sam watching them both, his face riddled with grief, and never ending tears flowing down his red cheeks. 

“You look…so…” Sam’s breath hitched and he scrubbed desperately at his eyes. “So…happy,” he cried and his head fell into his hands. Dean turned back to Castiel whose face reflected all the pain Sam was feeling. Dean could feel how his body ached with guilt. 

“Tell me that Eros was successful.” Dean whispered and Cas turned to look at him blinking. 

“I…I don’t know,” he begrudgingly admitted. “We…we fought. Eros seems to lack a true understanding of human emotions… and I seem to lack a control of my temper. I will have to work on this…once he is no longer angry with me.” 

“So you don’t know?” Dean asked, his voice raising. He reached down and pulled his belt away from his leg. The thing was ruined from the blood but he stuffed it into his pocket anyway as he got to his feet. “You need to zap us there, Cas. Now.” Cas turned and looked at Sam, and then back to Dean. He tilted his head to the side in question. 

“I can’t take your car. It’s too heavy for me to carry.” 

“I’ll get Baby later. This is a good neighborhood if you ignore all the demons and witches, and she ain’t illegally parked. Just get us back to the bunker. Now.” Sam got to his feet while Dean was speaking and took a step towards them. Gingerly, he took Castiel’s hand. 

“Did…did Eros cast the spell? I thought it would take longer but…did Gabriel go into his vessel?” Hope welled in his eyes and Dean could hardly look at his brother’s vulnerable face. He let out a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that just for once; this one fucking time, they don’t lose someone that they care about. 

“I don’t know, Sam, I am sorry,” Castiel said and reached to take Dean’s hand as well. In the middle of a quiet suburb, in the early dawning of a new day, the three men stood for a moment in silence. Hand in hand, they formed a bond that spanned not only years, but a lifetime. “Let’s go and find out.” Castiel said softly, and with a flap of wing, the three men winked out of sight. 

 

They landed outside of the bunker entrance which worked well for Sam. It was as though Castiel knew what he was going to say. 

“Wait here,” Sam said, “I want to do this alone.” 

“Sam-“ Dean began but Castiel shushed him to silence. Those two seemed stronger by the day and Sam was truly happy for them. And while he could never leave his brother’s side, Sam really wasn’t a part of them anymore. He had to find his own destiny now. With or without Gabriel, he had to find the strength to see this to the end. Wiping at his face, Sam willed his tears to stop. He took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves, and walked towards the door. His friends said nothing more as he vanished into the bunker below which was just as well. This wasn’t about them. It was about Gabriel and Sam. 

Making his way down the familiar stairs, Sam moved past the library/research area and deeper into their home. He assumed the lab was involved, and that the medical wing would probably be where he could find Gabriel. It had to be Gabriel. He couldn’t think of his angel not being alive. 

Hesitating, Sam swallowed back bile and pushed into the double doors of the laboratory. The room looked to be in utter chaos. Broken glass and liquids of various colors decorated the floor and walls. Some of the tables appeared to have been moved a few inches in different directions and some of the books were thrown off their shelves. Sam could only imagine what kind of fight Eros and Castiel had, but it didn’t look like it ended well. 

Sam tried to avoid the glass and moved further into the room. He looked towards the medical wing beyond and saw a shape laid out on one of the beds. It moved slowly under heavy blankets. Gasping, Sam dashed the remaining distance between them. He crunched through glass and fluids without thought. Reaching the bed, he threw back the blanket that hid the form beneath and sucked air through his teeth. 

Large hazel eyes looked up at him. Scared, defenseless eyes. But something was deeper inside them. Something warm. 

“R…Riot?” Sam breathed as he took in the full length of the dog he once hit on the road so long ago. Amelia’s dog, but not really. From the moment he carried this dog into the emergency vet he knew that it belonged to him. Reaching out, he undid the straps that held the Australian shepherd in place, and the dog tried to get to his feet. 

“No, no…it’s okay boy. Rest. It’s okay.” Sam reached out gingerly, and sank his hands deep into the familiar fur. The dog’s eyes slipped shut for a moment but then opened again and tilted his muzzle towards Sam. 

“It’s good to see you, buddy,” Sam said with a smile, and didn’t notice the tears leaking down his face once more as he leaned over and placed his forehead against that of his dogs. Suddenly, an image appeared in his mind. A flash of light and there he could see Gabriel’s face smiling back at him. Pulling away with a jerk, Sam looked down and stared into the dogs eyes. Those big, hazel eyes. Were they hazel before? 

“Gabriel?” Sam breathed, and the dog whined as his nose gently nuzzled at Sam’s coat. The gesture was enough and Sam was undone. His face fell into open sobs and he clung to his dog. Pulling Gabe close and hugging him against his chest. 

“I thought I lost you. I thought I would never see you again. Gabe…Gabriel…” Gabe continued to whine and nuzzle at Sam’s chest, seemingly just as desperate to hug the hunter back. “Don’t ever leave me again, okay?” Sam said, running his fingers through his dog’s thick, silky fur. “You’re home now.” Gabriel closed his eyes and Sam could have sworn it looked as though his dog was smiling. 

End of Part 4 


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Nanowrimo took over my life.

Part 5: All Good Things End in Blood 

Chapter 42 

Sam sat high on the ridge overlooking the small town and waited. Gabe whined softly beside him and Sam's fingers found comfort in the dog’s fur. 

"I know. It won't be long now." He said. 

For close to a month he worked on training his technique with Gabe. The angel was no longer able to talk to him in words, but in that time together they learned that words were not needed. The bond between them far surpassed any spoken language. 

The moon was just coming out from behind the clouds; a full moon tonight, and Sam got to his feet. He heard enough stories of this town to know werewolf sign when he saw it, and Sam thought a werewolf would be a good practice run to test out their abilities. He wanted to get a feel for what they could do before he went against the big baddies. Before he tackled Serrath. 

A lone howl resounded from deeper in town and Gabe stiffened. 

"Wait," Sam whispered and so his dog did. It wasn't long and another howl responded from the woods followed by a third. This was what Sam was waiting for. He needed to not take out just the wolf in town but the entire pack to stop the spread of the infection. To stop more children from getting killed. 

"Ok Gabe, let's go," Sam said, and he reached out to brush against Gabriel's Grace. It would never fill him as strongly as it once had, but Sam did well with the compromise. Instead of having two self-aware persons competing for control of the same body, he and Gabe were able to work together now. To protect each other. Gabe was truly his best friend and for that, Sam would give up all the power he gained just to have. 

In this moment, he channeled just enough Grace to quicken his speed, and the hunter moved like a shadow beside his angelic dog. 

They stayed in the woods, navigating through the dim moonlight at a dangerous pace, and edged towards the sound of the second wolfs howls. Sam could sense from Gabe the smell of a hunt and the prickly scent they was strictly lycanthrope. They turned in unison towards the scent. He could also feel emotions from Gabe that told him how much the dog had craved this. Independence, freedom, life. It might not be to the degree that he once had, but at least he was _doing_ something. He was helping again, and that was what mattered most to the angel. 

The underbrush didn't faze them. Both dog and human used Grace to navigate soundlessly through the night. So it was no surprise that they should arrive upon the creature undetected while it worked it's fangs into a small deer. 

Gabriel huffed. A small sound just under his breath but Sam sensed his emotions and knew what he wanted. 

_Let me go, let me hunt, let me prove myself to you._

"Go," Sam whispered and Gabe moved lightning quick to close in on the werewolf. The monster caught sight of the Australian husky just as he moved to flank. It lifted its muzzle, drenched in blood and turned, but was not quick enough. Gabe lunged, sinking his teeth deep into the things trachea, and tore it cleanly from its throat. The werewolf didn't make a sound when he collapsed to the earth. Gabriel stood over him, spitting the remains of the things wrecked throat from his teeth, and Sam strode over to stand next to him. 

"Good boy," he whispered and Gabe whined softly in his throat. Sam could sense his pleasure at the hunters praise. "Let's go get the other two." Pulling at the dogs senses through the unexplained bond that they shared, Sam could smell the other moving in the distance. He could smell her same musk on the fur of the deceased wolf-turned-human near them and Sam instinctively knew she was his mate. Without words, using their thoughts to guide them, both man and dog broke into a run. 

 

Dean laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling. They have been holed up in the bunker for the better part of two weeks while Sam was off finding himself. Serrath and her whereabouts remained unknown, and Crowley hasn’t made an appearance since he blasted them out of a basement in Sussix. 

"I'm telling you, we should be out there, Cas. Looking for leads." The water shut off in the adjacent bathroom, and Castiel emerged moments later; his hair slicked and wet, a towel loosely tucked low at his hip. Dean's eyes followed him as he walked across the room; staring at the way the bones of his hip peeked out just above the towel. Cas didn’t need to take showers. He could just mojo all the grime of the day away, but Dean suspected that he did it just to drive Dean crazy. The way his mind was flashing a sex-appeal billboard in Dean’s brain pretty much confirmed that assumption. 

"We should have Sam with us, Dean. Sam is who Serrath is after, he could lure her out better than we could." Cas turned away, and Deans eyes followed thin drops of water as they trailed slowly down the man's toned back. He watched as Cas lifted his boxers from a folded pile of clothing, and Dean bit at his lower lip. 

"Leave it," he rasped and Castiel looked over his shoulder at the hunter. 

"Dean?" The question carried weight with it but Castiel playfully tilted his head to the side. In the two weeks that they have been holed up in the bunker together, Dean and Cas had spent _a lot_ of time exploring their sexual boundaries. There was a lot of tug and pull; give and take between them. Dean couldn’t give too much of himself and Cas couldn’t take too much of what was given. It often left Dean with one hell of a headache but they made small progress from the effort. 

Sometimes, when Dean was in the shower or otherwise alone, he would think about how it would feel to actually fuck Castiel. Full out gay angel porn would stream through his head like it was on its on celestial channel. He suspected that Cas might be able to sense what he was thinking about in those times by the way color spread over his cheeks. 

There was one time especially after Dean was done giving his dick a good once over thinking about Cas bent over his bed that Castiel’s face was on fire and he wouldn’t look Dean in the eye for the rest of the night. This made Dean all the more wanting but the way Castiel was a fucking sex god the second he was in a bed, Dean wasn’t sure he would ever get to the point that he could handle full blown penetration without going supernova on them both. For the time being, he would have to entertain himself in other ways. 

"Come here," he said, low and sultry. Cas obeyed him instantly and when he was within range, Dean reached out and yanked away Cas's towel. 

"Dean, what are you doing?" Cas gasped, half surprised, half aroused. Dean reached for his hand, pulling him down, and Cas stumbled forward over his towel, falling into Dean's arms. 

Their mouths worked together like an old song. Tongues and voices harmonizing the tune. It was heaven, it was ecstasy, it was Cas. 

Dean let his hand slide down the length of his angel's ribs and gently cup against his ass. "Let’s take it nice and slow tonight," he whispered against Cas's lips and the angel nodded as he pressed his forehead against Deans. 

Dean kissed Cas again deeply; drinking from him every moan and whimper until Cas was hot and writhing in his arms, then he pulled away, allowing Cas to catch his breath while guiding him onto the bed. That was the way that seemed to work best for them to avoid any accidents. When Cas got hot, Dean would cool him down. It helped Cas to better concentrate on not overdoing the soul to Grace thing. That was not to say Dean hasn't gotten burned once or twice but he was able to handle it, and there was nothing Cas couldn't heal. It certainly didn't stop him from hungering for more of Cas. For all of Cas. 

"Dean..." Cas said with a sigh while Dean trailed a hot tongue against the semi-rigid curve of his cock. The action gave Dean a bit of an idea. He wanted to do so many things to Cas. Own every inch of the angel in any way he could imagine, but it seemed that creativity was getting the best of him that evening. 

"Roll over," he said low and gruff. Cas lifted his head and peered down the length of his body into Dean's eyes, but he did not hesitate to turn and roll onto his stomach. 

Dean explored the curve of his back, the soft humps of his ribs, the toned flex of his shoulders; all with his mouth and with his kisses. Cas's hips shifted against the bed for friction but Dean let him to it. The attention he gave Cas was to sooth him. To calm him as Dean was. When his hips slowed and his breathing evened out, Dean knew he was ready. The next part would be a bit more interesting. 

Sliding down the length of Cas's body, Dean rolled his hands gently over Castiel’s ass, spreading him in the process. With no warning, and with Cas completely unprepared, he leaned in and flicked his tongue against the tight pucker of Cas's entrance just as he pushed a wave of desire right at Cas with his soul. 

"Fuck! Dean! Fuck!" Cas went from zero to one hundred in a second and Dean sat back startled. Cas _never_ swore like that. 

"Whoa," was all he could say as Cas rolled into his side and curled into a ball. Then concern crept in. "Cas are you okay?" 

"Dean..." Cas groaned and lifted his hand to show the stripes of wet painted there. 

"Cas…wait... did you?" 

"This is embarrassing," Cas muttered. 

"You came without me touching you?" Dean was astonished. 

"How can you possibly say that? With your... tongue and that emotional spear... Father in heaven. Dean, how can I resist you?" 

Well Dean liked that sound of that. He didn't ever think to use his emotions in this way before, but it certainly opened new doorways as long as Cas could keep his Grace under control. Cautiously, curiously, Dean let his eyes creep over Cas's body, curled up as it was, and lust sprung up inside him. He pushed it out, with much less force than before, and envisioned it creeping along Cas spine. 

Cas groaned in the back of his throat, and pulled out of his ball to arch his back. 

"Oh Dean," he panted, and Dean could already see his spent cock, showing signs of life. "Dean that feels so good." Dean smiled triumphant. He didn't even have his fucking clothes off and already Cas was so hot he could barely breathe after just coming to Dean's one stroke rimming. 

Concentrating, Dean took reign of his growing lustful desire and split it into two tendrils that he snaked up Cas's thighs like teasing hands. The angel fell onto his back, thrusting into the sensation, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open in a soft moan of desire. 

Fuck if this wasn't the hottest thing Dean has ever bared witness to. 

"Well this was an angle I never expected to see from you, angel," said a familiar husky voice, and both men turn to see Crowley standing at the entrance to their room. 

"What the fuck, Crowley!" Dean snarled but already Castiel was out of bed, using his angelic wings to lightning-flee into the bathroom. 

"Oh, was it something I said?" Crowley asked with a tilt of his head and a lift of his brow, "Or maybe he just doesn't like the idea of a demon getting full view of his wet angelic body." 

"Give me one reason not to punch you," Dean bit through his teeth. He did not like Cas being humiliated like this, and he especially did not like a fucking demon showing up in his bedroom. "How the hell did you even get in here?" 

"Now now, Squirrel. No need to get your panties in a bunch. While you and Samantha have been playing with your angel pets, I've actually been doing some work for you. As for how I got in here..." Crowley reached out and slid his fingers down the length of Dean's doorway. "Once you let a rat in, you never really can get rid of him." 

Castiel opened the bathroom door and stormed red-faced across the small expanse of the bedroom to push Crowley hard against the wall in the hallway. 

"So you have clothing, I see. Here I thought maybe all angel pets went without," Crowley sneered and Castiel shoved him harder. 

"You had no right to do that!" Castiel seethed. Dean was too his feet, moving to get between them. Crowley offered a rich smile. 

"Do what? See you moan and squirm? I honestly didn't know I was coming here to see a show, but... see one I did." Cas reached up, hand splayed, palm ready to smite when Dean finally reached them. He pulled Castiel away from Crowley and the demon laughed. 

"Cas stop! Stop!" Dean said as Cas struggled against him. Cas lunged at Crowley again, his eyes wide, his nostrils flared, and Dean jerked him back again. "Look at me, Cas!" Slowly, reluctantly, Cas turned and peered at Dean through his lashes. His face was hot with challenge and shame. 

"I don't like him, Dean," Cas snapped and looked every bit the holy angel pouting. Dean reached out and laced his hands through Castiel's hair. So what if Crowley sees? 

Not too long ago, Dean meant something to Crowley. He affected the demon in some way to the point that Crowley was willing to share ruling hell with him. And even though that sounded so horribly inviting, Dean turned him down pretty hard. He had to wonder... 

Leaning in, Dean captured Castiel's lips and drew the angel into a deep kiss. Immediately, his body started to respond and he could hear Cas's breath catch in his throat. 

"Oh, come off it," Crowley spat in disgust and Dean smiled against Castiel's mouth. Interesting. He pulled away and cast an indifferent glance over his shoulder at the agitated demon. 

"Did you come here for a reason other than teasing Cas? Cause if not, I think we could make better use of this time if we were alone." Crowley wrinkled his nose and looked away. He seemed uncomfortable and dejected. 

"I came to tell you about what I learned of the weapons Serrath was making," he said without meeting Dean's eye, "and what I suspect she bloody intends on doing with them." Dean pulled away from Cas, feeling he made his point well enough, and focused on Crowley. 

"Let's go somewhere else to sit and talk," Dean offered but Crowley took a step back defensively, his arms raised. 

"No, no thank you. Last time I was here in one of your rooms-to-sit, it was not so pleasant for me. Your bedroom will be fine." Dean hesitated, glancing at Cas, and Crowley took the opportunity to walk past them both and into the bedroom. They followed him with their eyes as he stretched casually out on Dean's bed, and smiled. Gently, he patted the area beside him inviting Dean to join him, and raised his other hand showing Dean his palm. 

Jealousy surged through the mind connection Dean shared with Castiel so strongly, Dean almost thought it came from him. He glanced over at Cas and saw that the angel was glaring at Crowley with such forced indifference that it was almost amusing. When the hell did this all start? 

Feeling very much like the guy with the overly jealous girlfriend, Dean awkwardly took the only seat in the room: an easy chair that used to house his dirty magazines before Cas moved in. Crowley shifted his hand so that two fingers were pointing at Dean like he was playing cowboys and Indians. 

Cas stood a moment longer, not taking his eyes from Crowley, and then reluctantly crossed the room to perch on the bed next to him. His jealous emotions coursing through Dean's brain gave way to sadness and deep disappointment. Dean glanced at him surprised. 

Crowley let out a long sigh that said _these silly children,_ and rolled his eyes. 

"Alright let's hear it," Dean said, but his eyes kept going back to Cas. Why was he so hurt? 

"The weapons are for the monsters. It appears Serrath still wants her army and she wants them armed to the teeth." 

"I don't understand," said Cas, sounding annoyed, "why would she want another army when all she really was after was Sam?" 

"Of course you don't understand," Crowley jeered through his smile. "You need to be a strategy thinker if you want to get ahead. Maybe I should have explained that to you before your angel massacre that cost so many lives up in that sweet heaven of yours." 

Castiel's eyes flamed blue. The sadness in him flipped to rage and deep gut wrenching shame. Dean pushed the feelings away. He learned pretty early on how to put Cas out of his mind. He suspects they would have driven each other crazy if they didn't know how. 

"Stop poking a stick at Cas," Dean interjected gruffly, "Why does Serrath want an army?" 

"That's an excellent question Dean!" Crowley said jovially and Castiel actually growled under his breath. "I thought about this for some time, you see, and I am an imaginative thinker. Do you know what that means, angel?" 

"Cut the crap Crowley," Dean snapped and Crowley shrugged. 

"I thought to myself, what if it isn't really Moose that's the key to all of this? So I did a little digging. A little of that research you hunters love to do, and everything became crystal clear to me." 

Crowley twisted and stood. He strode confidently towards Dean. Castiel got up too, a look of warning on his face, but when Crowley stepped into Dean’s no-fly zone it had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with control, power, and intimidation. 

"The army isn't for him, Dean," he said in his low raspy voice, "it's for you." 


	43. Chapter 43

The sun danced brightly across his skin and Sam sighed in its warming embrace. He laid in a dog park in San Francisco soaking in the environment along with the sunlight. For the first time in his lifetime, or perhaps the first time since law school at least, he felt completely at peace. Gabriel huffed wordlessly beside him and Sam reached out to stroke his fur right behind his ear. It was one of his favorite spots. 

“I know we have to get back. I know. Just give me a few more minutes, okay?” Sam asked and Gabe whined assent. Sam thought about what it would be like if he wasn’t a hunter anymore. He and Gabriel could travel overseas and see the streets of Rome. They could stand in the chapels of the Vatican city, or roam the countryside of France. It would only take a moment on angelic wings and they could be transfixed to a new place and time. Away from Serrath, away from monsters and death. 

Sam could feel all the lives he has taken weighing on his soul. He could feel them like a gentle squeeze of hands upon his very being; like a band of iron around his chest, and it made him feel like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. He didn’t like this feeling in the least and imagined it would only get worse with the path he was going on. Gabriel lifted his head and turned his brown eyes on Sam. 

“I don’t know what you mean. With everything going on, I don’t know how it could be possible to worry too much,” Sam said in response to his silent implication, and Gabe huffed his displeasure as he got to his feet. He took a few steps away, and Sam’s hand slipped from his fur. “Okay, Gabe, okay. We can go back.” 

Sam sat up and Gabriel turned to bury his muzzle under Sam’s chin in a dogged embrace. Sam laughed, hugging his friend, and then pulled from his Grace to space shift them back to the bunker. They manifested in the central sitting area just as Castiel stormed into the room. 

“Oh, hello,” Sam said jovially and Gabe turned to meet Cas’s eyes as well. The angel stared at the dog for a moment, and then back at Sam before shaking his head. 

“I don’t have time for this right now,” he said huskily and tension radiated from his voice. 

“Cas! Come on,” Sam could hear Dean say back the hall but already Cas was making his way towards the stairs. 

“What is going on?” Sam asked, regretting that he didn’t stay in the park just a few minutes longer. Castiel whirled around and jabbed a finger at Dean just as Sam’s brother rounded the corner of the hallway. 

“ _He_ insists on working with that pathetic demon, Crowley,” Castiel snapped and Dean skidded to a halt. 

“Sam!” Dean said, startled at his brother’s abrupt return, but quickly recovered with the opportunity of some needed back up. “Sam, tell Cas that while we work with Crowley on occasion it never really means anything.” 

“When I allied with Crowley, you put me in a ring of angel fire!” Castiel snapped and Dean shrugged nervously. 

“That was before. You know, he’s different now. I think he’s helped you a few times since then, right? Crowley can help us and we need to figure out what Serrath is about!” 

Gabriel huffed quietly into the abrupt silence between them and Sam burst into laughter. He clutched at his ribs as the laughter threatened to give him a side stitch. Gabe looked up at him and showed his teeth in a grin. After a moment Sam opened his eyes and realized that both Cas and Dean were staring at him blankly. 

“What?” Sam offered, wiping a tear from his eye, “That was funny.” Castiel shook his head. 

“I need to go for a walk,” he said and stomped up the stairs. 

“Cas! Come on,” Dean whined impatiently but already the angel was walking out into the day, slamming the door behind him. Dean sighed long and hard and then glanced over at Sam. 

“Way to have my back there, Sammy,” he grumbled but they both knew that wasn’t fair. 

“Dean, what is going on?” Sam asked and Dean sighed again. 

“Apparently, Castiel is jealous of Crowley,” Dean muttered. Gabriel whined deep in his throat and Sam nodded agreement. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” he said at the dog and Dean stared at him for a moment. 

“Can you…understand everything he’s saying?” Dean asked, as he walked over and rubbed at Gabe’s head. 

“Of course,” Sam said, blinking confusion. He had already explained this to his brother. Dean stared at Gabe a moment longer and then shook his head. 

“Anyway, Crowley is camped out in my bedroom. He wanted to go over a plan he had to deal with Serrath and Lucifer, but then Castiel stormed off leaving me in a very awkward position.” 

“Go after him, Dean. I’ll go talk to Crowley,” Sam said and started for the hallway. 

“Cas is fine,” Dean said gruffly and watched as Gabriel padded back the hall ahead of them. Gabe paused and turned his head to huff softly at the air before moving on to Dean’s bedroom. 

“He has a point Dean,” Sam said nodding. 

“What point is that? I’m sorry but it’s been a long time since I was able to speak canine,” Dean said, growing annoyed. Sam turned and reached for his brother, stopping him in his tracks. He sympathized with Dean, he really did. Dean was never one to really understand emotions and what to do with them. But he has committed himself to Castiel, an angel who is very vulnerable in the emotion department, and he had an obligation to the other man to put him before everything else. That included Sam. 

“He said that if Castiel didn’t want you to follow him, he would have used his wings instead of his feet. Go after him. I will talk to Crowley.” He pulled away from Dean then and continued back the hallway. It gave him hope to see that Dean didn’t follow him. He was learning at least. Sam trailed after Gabriel and went into Dean’s room. 

 

Dean had been trudging through the woods for a good hour when he finally came upon Castiel sitting on the sandy shore of a wide mouthed creek. Dean sighed and pushed forward. He didn’t like this sudden strange territory they were on and desperately wanted things to go back to the way they were before. He didn’t understand how everything went so horribly south but south it went that was for sure. 

“Cas,” Dean said tenderly as he approached the angel from behind. Cas didn’t turn to move, but instead remained crouched on his haunches; poking at the water with a stick. Dean walked over to stand beside him, and then lowered himself to the earth so that he could better see Cas’s face. 

“I don’t like him, Dean,” Cas muttered, still sulking and Dean nodded. 

“Yeah. I know.” 

“He was posturing towards you. Did you not see it?” Cas asked, shoving rocks deeper into the water current with his stick. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Cas,” Dean said and he gingerly ran his fingers down Castiel’s back. The angel turned to him frowning, hurt set deep into his eyes. 

“Did you not see how he was holding his hands?” Cas asked and Dean nodded. 

“Yeah like he was shooting a finger gun at me. Was that supposed to mean something?” He asked and Cas turned away; poking at the water once more. 

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled but he didn’t stop sulking. 

“Be honest with me Cas,” Dean said and he reached out to pull Cas’s chin towards him; forcing the angel to look at him again. Castiel frowned as he looked up at Dean, and his sadness twisted at Dean’s heart. He leaned over and gently brought his lips to his angels. Their kiss was long and languid, and soon Cas was leaning into Dean; finding comfort in his arms. “Talk to me Cas. Tell me what’s going on.” 

“Crowley was enacting the ancient Enochian hand gestures of courtship,” Cas grumbled and Dean laughed in surprise. 

“He what?” Cas looked up at him, his face stern and serious, and Dean tried his hardest to wipe the smile off his face. 

“The hand gestures he used was to invite you to bed him, and then to suggest that he bed you instead. It was rude and disgusting for him to do that right in front of me,” Castiel said and his voice came out like a growl. 

“Cas, come on. You know he was just fucking with you.” Dean laughed again but Cas stared at him with those killer blue eyes. 

“Was he, Dean?” Blue to green. Dean’s smile faded away. 

“Well I…I wouldn’t understand what he meant…I mean he wouldn’t really…” 

“Dean…what happened between you two when you were a demon?” Cas asked and gently Dean pulled away from him. 

“We are not going to go there,” Dean said with all the finality he could muster, and he got to his feet. 

“I don’t want him helping us, Dean,” Castiel stated in his firm angel-with-no-nonsense voice and Dean nodded reluctantly. 

“Okay, yeah. I get it Cas. Let’s just go back and tell him he has to leave. You are far more important than any information he might be able to provide.” Cas peered up at Dean with suspicion. 

“Do you really mean that, Dean?” he asked and Dean leaned over to ruffle his unruly hair. 

“Of course. I love you, Cas,” Dean admitted, somewhat begrudgingly, and Castiel’s face broke into an amazing smile. 

 

“Moose!” Crowley exclaimed gleefully as Sam walked into the room. Gabriel seemed to have already made himself comfortable on the demon’s lap and Crowley’s hand was suspended just above his head. Gabriel looked up at him. Giving his consent, and Crowley’s hand lowered hesitantly. An instant later he was burying his fingers into the dog’s thick neck fur. That was one of his sweet spots. Crowley’s smile reached the creases at his eyes. 

“I see you’ve taken a shine to Gabe,” Sam said gesturing at the husky and Crowley beamed at him. 

“Gabriel! Yes, I am surprised to see a dog possessed by the ghost of an angel.” Gabriel huffed at this and both Sam and Crowley chuckled. Then Sam lifted his gaze and met eyes with the demon. 

“You can understand him?” Sam asked and Crowley shrugged. 

“I command hell-hounds, you shouldn’t be surprised that I can understand your angel when he speaks. Tis a shame he is soul-bound to you. I would love to keep him for myself.” Sam sat down in the chair adjacent to the bed and pondered what Crowley had said. 

“Perhaps we could come up with an agreement,” he suggested and both Crowley and Gabe lifted their heads to peer at Sam. The unison in which they moved was almost comical. 

“You know how I love agreements, Moose,” Crowley rasped softly and Sam smiled. 

“Leave Cas and Dean alone. Work through me exclusively. You can have all the petting time you want with Gabe. As long as it’s ok with him, that is.” Gabriel huffed softly in his throat and both men smiled at him. Of course it was okay with Gabe because it was what Sam wanted. 

“Very well,” Crowley said dismissively and he almost was able to mask the slight hint of disappointment in his eyes. “Although I would be of much more help to Dean. You, are just a puppet. The best I can do for you is pull a few of your strings.” 

Sam understood now how Crowley liked to operate. He used his smooth words to get those involved with him hot and angry. He would work them up into a fine emotional stew, and then he would throw out his ace and let them get gobbled up. It made any contract end in his favor even if it didn’t seem like it from the start. The thing that Crowley didn’t seem to remember though was that Sam studied to be a lawyer. He negotiated with the best of them, and he knew how to keep his cool when he faced a battle of wits. 

“Explain it to me,” he said calmly, and a small smile brushed at his lips. “But not here. You will not come back here again. Understand?” Gabriel barked once and Crowley gasped. 

“I did no such thing!” He said defensively. 

“You walked in on them?” Sam asked, his eyebrows threatening to climb off his forehead. 

“Okay well…yes. But it was an accident! I didn’t know the two of them would be…and how did you even know that?” he asked Gabriel but the dog just rested his head back on Crowley’s lap. Sam kind of wondered the same thing. 

“Okay, you are definitely not permitted to come back here. Understand?” 

“Yes,” Crowley hissed reluctantly and then rolled his eyes. 

“Good. Now get out of here. Meet me tomorrow at this time on top of the Golden Gate Bridge.” Crowley looked at Sam, astonished. 

“You can do that?” he asked in a small voice and Sam smiled. Crowley didn’t have all the answers to life’s great mysteries did he? 

“I have grown fond of San Francisco.” 

 

When Castiel returned with Dean, Gabriel and Sam were waiting for them in the common area. Castiel glanced at Gabe, and the dog lifted his head. Images flashed between them, faster than light, and Castiel felt a newfound warmth in his heart for the younger Winchester. Cas was so grateful that Gabriel forgave him for his past mistakes and released the influence he had on Sam’s opinion of Cas. He needed Sam as an ally, but also wanted him as a friend. Sam was always the best of them after all. 

“Crowley won’t be bothering you anymore,” Sam announced when they came to join the hunter and his dog at the table. 

“Really? Well that was easy,” said Dean, but then he glanced nervously at Castiel. “Still…he seemed to have been on to something.” 

“Tell me everything he said,” Sam insisted and Dean proceeded to explain the events that occurred. He was kind enough to leave out the part of Castiel being naked which he was very grateful for. Gabriel knew the truth of it; he would not keep secrets from his brother, but Sam really didn’t need to know the degree of his embarrassment. 

“He said that Serrath was forming an army to come after me. He thinks that it will take an army to be able to get past all of you, but with a mass of demons armed with magical weapons that can do God knows what…I don’t know if what we have can be enough.” 

“We can track down Shawn…get the rest of the hunters together,” Castiel offered but Sam shook his head. 

“I think I might have something better in mind. But you aren’t going to like it Dean. Neither of you are going to like it.” He looked down at Gabriel who lifted his head to meet Sam’s eyes. Softly Gabriel whined and whatever he communicated to Sam, he was not projecting it to Cas. “I am going to have to part ways from you for a while,” Sam said softly and Dean was instantly to his feet. 

“No Sam,” he said, his jaw set like he was ready for a fight. Sam shook his head and looked up at Dean. 

“I am not going to argue with you on this. I know in the past I thought I had a great idea and you pretty much bullied me into realizing I was wrong and yes, usually you were right Dean, but not this time. This time, I go it alone.” 

“Sam this is bigger than anything we have ever faced. You can’t be serious. There is no way we will be able to survive if we are separated. Castiel looked between the brothers and could see the tension thick in the air. He knew well enough when to keep his mouth shut but perhaps if he just offered one suggestion… 

“Maybe we should get some dinner,” he said in his best jovial voice, “maybe have some pie.” 

“No,” both brothers said in unison and Castiel bit his lip. Images projected in his head. Crowley, Sam, and an army behind them. Castiel swallowed hard and looked with wide eyes at Gabriel. Surely he didn’t mean…it was far too dangerous. Gabriel closed his eyes slowly, and turned away from his brother. 

“Dean I will be back before you know it,” Sam said and already he was pulling back his chair. Gabriel jumped off of the chair he had inhabited and trotted to Sam’s side. 

“Sam don’t do this,” Dean warned, “we need to stick together!” 

“Good bye, Dean,” Sam said with a sad smile, and then he vanished on the flight of an angel wing. 

“Fuck!” Dean shouted and then he picked up his chair and threw it across the room. Castiel stared, not sure what to do, but knowing now was not the time to say what he needed to say. Dean reached across the table for a bottle of scotch and unscrewed the lid. 

“Dean,” Cas began but Dean’s glare silenced him instantly. Dean sat back at the table and poured a large portion of the amber liquid into a glass resting beside him. He downed the drink in one swallow, and Cas could think of nothing but to stand and watch and wait. 

The world was on the cusp of destruction, and Castiel quietly watched the one human he loved more than all others get utterly drunk. He never felt so helpless to stop the hands of time as they spiraled towards disaster. 


	44. Chapter 44

Eros looked out over the park at the lake and mused at how the trees reflected upon the water. They looked like mirrors echoing the sky in an envious attempt to display it upon the earth. He decided that if he could choose between those two worlds, he would like to explore the reflection instead of the reality. There was probably much more imagination there. 

“Thank you for coming, Eros,” Castiel said from behind him and Eros turned to look at him with a smile. 

“Of course. I always come when you call, brother,” he said honestly and Castiel shrugged, looking away. 

“I wasn’t sure after…you were upset with me when we last were together.” 

“Yes,” Eros admitted and turned back to the water. Castiel approached the park bench where he sat, and joined him in sitting. They admired the water in silence for a while, but it was Castiel who was first to speak. 

“I feel that I am in so far over my head right now, brother, I don’t even know which way is up anymore,” Castiel said softly and the ache in his voice pulled at Eros’s heart strings. 

“I’m sorry, Castiel. I wish I knew how to console you, but I have spent a lot of time thinking about how things transpired between us before and I understand now where my mistake lied.” 

“Explain it to me then,” Castiel said. Eros noticed a heron coming in for a landing and his eyes followed the bird in flight. 

“I based all my decisions on what was most important to me. For a while, I thought you were what was most important to me and I did everything you asked of me. Even if I didn’t want to. Then I thought that it wasn’t you at all but instead it was my work and discovery that was most important to me and I sacrificed all alliances to see the experiment through.” The heron skidded across the water, gliding on open wings, and then dropped to finally rest afloat the mild current of the waves. Eros contemplated if he could perform the same feat with his own wings. 

“So what is most important to you,” Castiel asked and Eros turned to look at him. 

“Choice,” he said simply and Castiel nodded understanding. “No person or thing is most important to me. It is the choices I make that matter. I can see that now. I am not like you in that way. The only thing that is important to you is Dean.” 

“I am soul-bound to Dean,” Castiel said simply as though that forgave all transgressions. Eros didn’t comprehend how soul-binding worked but he suspected that Castiel had a bit more choice in the matter than he let on. Underneath it all, Castiel wasn’t one to lead. He much preferred to follow. 

“And now? What has you so far over your head?” Eros asked and Castiel sighed. 

“This war…it’s apparently not over. Unfortunately it is only beginning.” 

“I can sense that Gabriel fared well with his transition into his new vessel. Is he not able to help you?” 

“Sam and Gabriel have abandoned Dean. They are allying with Crowley, the King of Hell,” Castiel said miserably and from the way he said the name, Eros could tell how little he thought of this King of Hell person. 

“I see. So what can I do to help you?” Eros asked and Castiel looked at him surprised. 

“Would you? Help me, I mean.” 

“Of course! Is that not why you are here? To ask for my help?” Eros said, laughing, “I know we had some situations between us, but we are still family, are we not?” Castiel nodded, and his gaze dropped to his hands. 

“Thank you, Eros. Yes, I do need your help. I called you here because…I was hoping you could help me understand the connection between Lucifer and Sam.” 

 

Sam arrived a few minutes late, and was pleased to see Crowley already waiting for him. When boldly selecting the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, he didn’t realize how terrifyingly narrow the thing was, but he knew Gabriel was there and would stop him if he happened to fall. He pulled at the angel’s Grace and wrapped it around him like a cloak. Gabriel whined at Crowley until the demon opened his arms, and then he trotted over to Crowley’s knowing hands. 

“Thank you for meeting me here,” said Sam and he watched Crowley sink his fingers into Gabriel’s neck fur. The dog closed his eyes in a grin. 

“I would have much preferred a place of lower altitude,” Crowley said with mild irritation, “perhaps a nice bar or smoking lounge.” 

“Not many places allow pets,” said Sam with a smile and Crowley scoffed. 

“So tell me what this is about, Moose. Why the secrecy? Why the elevation? Why the absence of one squirrel and his angelic friend?” 

“I have heard that Serrath may still be forming an army. One that she intends to send after Dean. Why?” 

“Isn’t it obvious? Dean has always been your weakest link. What better way to get you to kill countless monsters than by putting your brother in danger?” Crowley leaned over and nuzzled Gabriel with his nose. The dog lifted his head and huffed his pleasure at the contact. Sam couldn’t tell if Crowley was smitten with the dog or with the angel. 

“Why would she want me to kill so many monster?” Sam asked softly and he thought about the tightening he felt in his chest. 

“I don’t think I’m ready to show all my cards yet, Samantha,” Crowley said, lifting his head to meet Sam’s eyes, “no matter how lovely your dog is.” 

“Fine,” Sam said with a shrug. He already knew the half of it anyway. These deaths were…affecting him somehow. Whatever that meant, he didn’t know but he could assume that was Serrath’s intent. “So let’s talk about how we can help each other instead.” 

Crowley pushed Gabriel off of his lap and stood. He brushed at the hairs clinging to his black suit and fixed Sam with a smile. “Go on, I’m listening.” 

“Tell me,” Sam said as Gabe padded back over to his side, “how quickly would you be able to orchestrate a demon army?” 

 

“Sam!” Dean shouted and he sat upright with a jolt. Hands slid over his chest and the soft glow of Grace illuminated the room. 

“Dean?” Cas’s voice called urgently. Dean looked around and realized they were in his bedroom. Cas has taken to laying with Dean at night to help him sleep. Since purgatory, Dean has never been able to have a restful night’s sleep without at least one nightmare plaguing him, but having Cas there helped. He has slept better with Cas around than he has slept for decades. Not since his first hunt. Not since seeing his first kill. But even Cas wasn’t able to keep the nightmares away that night. He dreamt of Sam in hell. Sam surrounded by demons and grinning. Sam with eyes black as night. Then a vision of Sam surrounded by an army and terrified. 

“Dean!” Cas’s voice came more urgently and Dean turned to find his eyes. Blue to green. Speaking volumes in the hazy glow of Grace light. Emotions exchanged between them. Worry, fear, concern, foreboding, love, love. 

“Something bad is happening to Sam,” Dean admitted after his heart stopped pounding against his ribcage. 

“How can you be sure?” Castiel asked and his fingers found Deans hair; stroking tentatively at the temples. 

“I don’t know…I don’t know. I just know, alright?” Dean pulled Cas’s hand away and took it in his own. He leaned over and absently kissed at the fingertips. 

“Dean, I don’t like when you are scared,” Cas whispered and a tremor edged his voice. 

“I know, me neither” Dean whispered in return. 

“I feel so helpless when you are scared and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help you,” his voice sounded more desperate and Dean pulled him close; making shushing sounds against his hair. 

“Eros is helping us and we will figure something out, right? I’ll try to call Sam again tomorrow. Maybe he’ll answer this time.” Castiel nodded. 

“Maybe he will.” But doubt was the only emotion either man sensed in the other. 

 

Eros grinned when Dean set down the heaping plateful of pancakes. When the container of syrup followed, his face practically split in two with how big his smile was. 

“Oh, you are too good to me, brother-in-law. Are there bananas in these pancakes?” Dean rounded the table to face the devilish angel and threw himself in an adjacent seat. 

“What did you just call me?” he asked and Eros lifted his eyes from the spread in front of him. 

“What? Brother-in-law? Well you practically are mine, are you not? Isn’t Castiel your soul-bound?” 

“Alright, alright, just cool the married talk around Cas, okay?” Dean said, waving his hands for emphasis. There was no way he was going down that road. Not that Eros’s wasn’t completely right. Dean couldn’t imagine himself with anyone but Castiel, it was just…marriage made him nervous. He was not the settle-down type. How would something like that even work anyway? 

Watching Eros dig into his pancakes slathered with way too much syrup, Dean thought about what a wedding would look like with Castiel. He thought of Cas in a dress and the idea made him almost laugh out loud. No, Castiel was always the suit kind. Hell, until recently that was pretty much the only thing he ventured to wear. But Dean wouldn’t want Cas in his old business and trench attire. No, Dean could see Cas in a fricken tux and the whole nine. Decked out like he was at some grand ball or something. Maybe with a splash of color in a nice fitting vest. Or maybe something slick like those threads he got when he was zapped back to the 1930s. He thought of Cas with his hair combed to the side, sleek and gentlemanly, and he thought about Cas walking down some ridiculously cheesy aisle to where Dean stood in some modestly adorned outdoor wedding. 

Would they exchange their own vows? What would he say to Cas that he hasn’t already said? That he is sorry he spent so much of his life trying to run from his feelings? That was a good start. That Castiel was the only person he could depend on outside of Sam and that every time he went away Dean felt something shrivel up inside his heart? Dean thought about Castiel’s eyes and how they glow in the sun. He thought about Castiel’s lips and how they sometimes curve into a smile. He thought about how they might look when he kissed him in front of what friends they still had alive. 

“Dean,” came a husky voice from the entrance to the kitchen and Dean turned to see Castiel leaning against the doorframe. He was panting, his shirt opened at the collar, and a red flush covered his face. 

“Cas? What the…” 

“Castiel!” Eros gasped and he was to his feet. 

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, and Eros glared at him. 

“What was going on in your brain? What are you projecting?” 

“Projecting?” Dean said confused but already Eros was walking around the table and reaching for his brother. 

“He is a flaming beacon, Dean. Whatever you were projecting, he absorbed every single ounce of it. He needs to expel his Grace. Now.” Dean could feel the heat in his face as he rose to follow after the two angels. Cas could…see what he was…projecting? And look at the result of it! It seemed like every time they took a step forward in their relationship they took two steps back. He didn’t even know he was projecting anything! He was just idly daydreaming about… Dean refused to believe he was blushing like a girl over silly wedding fantasies. 

Eros led Castiel outside and took him into the forest a distance away from the house. 

“I have been thinking about this for some time, Castiel, what to do with all this extra Grace you’re absorbing,” Eros was speaking low and hushed against Castiel’s ear but Dean was able to pick it all up in the quiet of the morning. Castiel on the other hand, seemed overwhelmed and hardly able to hear anything at all. 

“You’re situation is unique,” Eros continued, “no other angel would be able to produce the magnitude of power that you are capable of. But it’s a loose cannon. Unfiltered. I have been thinking about how I created the Recurve bows and how to adapt that creation into a workable renewable resource.” He turned then, and looked straight at Dean. Up to that point, Dean wondered if Eros was even aware that he had tagged along. 

“What weapon most suits you, hunter?” he asked and his eyes were intense in their gaze. Dean hesitated, feeling suddenly put on the spot, and took a step back. 

“Wait…what?” 

“We have little time,” Eros said, his voice rising, “from the level of Castiel’s Grace I suspect his vessel is going to combust in less than two minutes. Now! What. Weapon. Most. Suits. You?” 

“Machete,” Dean said without thought. He has had a lot of weapons over the years. The colt, the demon blade, whatever the fuck he could get his hands on that worked in the moment. But when he was in purgatory, the machete he had there was a part of him. It was an extension of his arm. He slept with it; hell he even shaved with it. That was the link he had to living. To life itself. He sorely hated to let it go when he passed back through to the other side. 

“Wait here,” Eros said sternly, and he turned back to Castiel. Before Dean knew what was happening, they both winked out of existence. 

“Hey!” Dean called out after them but no one responded. Worry rose in him on the wake of bile and he swallowed hard to keep from spilling his morning coffee all over the forest floor. What did he do to Cas? Was his vessel actually going to combust? Sure they had their share of a few close calls, but he never imagined; never thought for an instant that it was that dangerous. He didn’t know that Cas was on the edge like that all the time. Hell Cas was one wet dream away from frying out forever and Dean was in the other room whacking it to thoughts of Cas bent over a bed. 

Realization hit home with profound self-effacing shame. He was an asshole yet again and God help him if Castiel got hurt because of it. Settling down into the forest leaves, Dean closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. However long it took, he would wait there until Cas returned. 


	45. Chapter 45

Sam stretched out in the dog park that now grew familiar to him and sighed. Gabriel sun bathed beside him. When the world ended, as it most certainly would one day with everything they have had to face over the years, Sam hoped the sun would still shine down on him until the end. The sun, the birds, the gentle breeze, and Gabriel. That was all he needed. 

Sam’s phone rang, and he furrowed his brow in an effort to ignore it. Gabriel whined beside him. 

“I know it’s Dean,” Sam said annoyed. Gabe lifted his head and nuzzled at Sam’s hand. 

“I’m not going to answer it yet. Not until I know where to tell him to go.” Gabriel whined at this, a loud shrill sound, and Sam sighed. “I need to do it this way. Castiel would never let Dean risk himself like this otherwise. He will be okay. You trust me, don’t you Gabe.” 

His dog didn’t answer him. 

“So good to see you again, Samantha,” Crowley said, announcing his abrupt arrival and Sam sat up to look at the demon standing over him. Gabe sat up as well, wagging his tail at the shorter man’s arrival, and Crowley slipped his hand in his pocket. He pulled out a purple elephant chew toy, handing it to Sam’s dog, and Gabriel yipped his excitement at something to occupy his teeth on. 

“Odd how he’s an angel and yet-“ 

“Very much a dog,” Sam finished and the two men met each other’s eyes. 

“It doesn’t bother you, the attention I give him?” Crowley asked and Sam shrugged. 

“Gabe is my friend. I don’t own him. If he enjoys your company, I won’t judge him for it. Do you have good news for me, Crowley?” The Demon crouched down, reaching out for Gabriel, and the dog responded immediately by crowding into his arms. Crowley sunk his fingers into the dog’s fur and his smile appeared genuine. 

“So much softer than a hell hound,” he whispered, “with a lot less teeth.” Sam waited while Crowley petted. Eventually the demon would have to answer him and Sam was not about to beg or plead. 

Crowley surprised Sam with his affections. One moment, he was petting Gabriel’s thicker fur around his neck, and the next he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the dog’s head. Gabriel looked up at Crowley; his deep brown eyes absorbing and processing what had just occurred, and Crowley pulled away suddenly. He got to his feet once more and cleared his throat. Sam had no idea what to make of the exchange. 

“Yes,” Crowley said, brushing at his hands, “I have news. I can arrange for your army to be in attendance next week as you described.” 

“An army of how many?” Sam asked, suspicious. 

“Approximately ten thousand demons will be in attendance,” Crowley said and Sam couldn’t help the sharp inhalation of breath through his teeth. Ten thousand demons. His blood felt like ice. 

“You will have meat suits for all of them?” Sam asked softly. He didn’t want to think about all those people. All those bodies. Greater things were at stake and a lot more lives if Lucifer was able to get ahold of his vessel. 

“We will shop at the hospitals, Sam. That and the prisons. Anything to spare your conscious any more strain than it is already experiencing.” 

“I need to ferret out Serrath. When I know when and where, I will let you know,” Sam said decisively and Crowley nodded. He glanced at Gabriel one last time. Gabe sat with his tail swaying lazily and the new chew toy in his mouth. He dropped it to the ground and huffed softly at Crowley. 

“You’re welcome,” Crowley said, sounding almost endearing, and a small smile touched his lips. Then in the blink of an eye, he was gone. 

 

Dean listened to Sam’s voicemail, but snapped his phone shut without leaving a message. His stomach rolled with the premonition that Sam was in danger, but if his brother wasn’t going to talk to him, he couldn’t do much to help him out of it. 

That vision of Sam surrounded by an army burned through Dean’s mind so vividly, he was convinced it wasn’t just a dream. It couldn’t be. Something terrible was just on the horizon and he felt about as helpless as Castiel did to stop it. 

Cas… 

Dean shifted on the ground, trying to work some of the numbness out of his ass. He had not moved from the spot Eros’s told him to stay in and in fact spent the entire night sitting in the woods. He knew it was foolish. He knew that he could easily just walk back to the bunker and have a nice hot plate of anything right about now ‘cause he was fucking starving to death here…but some nonsensical part of his mind worried that if he moved away from the spot he was told to stay at, Castiel would die. He couldn’t risk it. So he stayed. 

He tried calling Cas’s cell phone a few times. Not that he really expected an answer but more so that he could hear the angel’s voice. It had been months since they had been apart. Not since that time so long ago when Dean thought Cas didn’t care about him anymore and Cas was off with Eros trying to find a way to protect Dean from the war that was about to overtake all of them. He got so used to having Cas around all the time and have the comfort that gave him. To be absent of his lover for so long; Dean felt lost. 

His head hurt; his heart hurt; his body hurt from the cold night seeping into his bones, and he just needed for Cas to come back and be okay. He felt so stupid for not listening to Eros in the first place. For thinking he had a handle on all of this. 

“Don’t beat yourself up,” a voice said and suddenly Cas was there, standing over him, looking down on him with a smile. 

“Cas!” Dean about cried and scrambled to his feet. His hands were all over Cas in an instant. Looking for any signs of distress or injury. His color was back to normal and he didn’t seem so delirious has he had the day before. His eyes were bright and a halfcocked smile remained plastered to his face. “God, you’re gorgeous.” Dean said without even thinking and Castiel laughed. 

“Just because I fixed part of the problem doesn’t mean you can keep on projecting like you are, Dean,” Eros said and Dean almost groaned when he saw the boy angel appear behind Cas. He was grateful to Eros, no mistaking it, since he obviously saved Cas’s life, but he also hated how the overly protective angel was such a nag. 

“Good to see you again too, Eros,” he said sarcastically. 

“No, Dean. It is not good,” Eros said and his dark eyes were all business. “We need to fix this right now before Castiel almost dies again.” 

“Eros,” Cas said softly, trying to reign his brother in but Dean held up a hand. 

“No, Cas, he’s right. Eros, please. Tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.” Eros studied him for a moment, dark eyes twinkling mischievously, and then he nodded his head and smiled. 

“Good. Because I have a lot to teach you.” He turned on his heel and walked back to the bunker leaving Cas and Dean to follow. They approached the door and Eros winked out of sight; preferring to use his wings to get inside instead of the old fashioned way of door knobs and stairs, but Dean was grateful. Having the moment alone, he pulled Cas into an embrace and hugged the angel tightly against him. 

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Dean rumbled, his voice suddenly hoarse, and Cas’s hands ran gently up his back to cup at his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I enjoyed listening to your thoughts. I thought I could handle all the emotions that went along with it…but I was wrong.” Cas pulled him tighter then, nuzzling his nose against Dean’s neck. “You have such beautiful thoughts, Dean.” 

Flashing through a few of those ‘beautiful thoughts’ in his mind, Dean pulled away to clear his throat and turned to hide his blush. He moved toward the door. 

“Well let’s find out what Eros has in store for us this time,” he threw over his shoulder, and Castiel followed him inside. 

 

Castiel watched Dean’s eyes light up when Eros placed the fulcrum between them. It was new, but it didn’t shine like the silvery scrolling artwork of the Recurves that Cas has seen before. Instead this was more rustic. Made for functionality and not for luster. Eros was not showing off, he was constructing for purpose and use alone. Regardless of this, Castiel was convinced that this was Eros’s finest work. It was beyond anything he has ever brought into creation before it. 

“What is it?” Dean whispered, awe apparent on his face. Eros smiled. He always liked when his efforts were appreciated and the way Dean was worshiping his new fulcrum had the angel about giddy. 

“It is a machete. And it is yours,” Eros said, delighted and Dean’s eyes locked with his. He was a bit in shock, somewhat disbelieving, but the sincerity on Eros’s face won Dean over and he smiled. Which of course, made Castiel smile. 

The fulcrum had a long thick handle about eight inches in length that was wrapped in a thick leather cord for grip. The blade that extended out past that was the color of iron but far stronger than any substance on Earth. It was forged in the fire of Castiel’s Grace. 

The blade extended for about a foot and a half past the hilt and curved slightly at the end to a wide tip. Holes were wrought into the blade to allow for blood wicking during penetrative thrusts, and a jagged stretch along the top of the blade near the hilt provided opportunity to tear open flesh if needed. It was really a ruthless device, and Dean was about orgasmic when holding it. 

“The balance is perfect. It’s like this blade was meant for me,” he said reverently. 

“It was meant for you,” Eros said patiently, “only you will be able to wield it.” Dean looked up at Eros then, intrigued. 

“What happens if someone else tries to use it that isn’t me?” He asked and Eros’s grin turned sinister. 

“They will not live to tell the tale. Hopefully you’ll get the opportunity to see it for yourself some time. There is something important about this blade though,” Eros said and placed a finger gingerly against the blade’s tip. “The color of this blade is unique. It is the essence that is Castiel. It is purely his Grace.” Bemused, Eros turned and looked at Castiel then. A bit of that old big-brother-worship in his eyes and it warmed Castiel’s heart to see it. 

“Ironically,” he said softly, “it is the same color as Castiel’s wings. I have always thought his wings the most beautiful in the angelic host.” Dean looked up at Cas at hearing this and Castiel blushed furiously. He didn’t deserve Eros’s compliment. Castiel’s wings were darker than ash. They weren’t always that way though. They changed color because of how they were damaged during his journey through hell. He was deformed. Crippled. Eros was identifying beauty in something any other angel would consider ugly. It flooded Castiel’s heart with so much sentiment that it threatened to spill from his eyes. He blinked quickly to hide his tears. 

“So…what does that mean then?” Dean asked a bit breathlessly but his eyes remained on Castiel. 

“As you use the blade, the color will fade. Castiel will need to recharge it with his Grace. It sustains him, you see. It gives an outlet to regularly expel his energy upon, and in truth no weapon could maintain so much energy without hosting an angel spirit inside of it the way my Recurves do. It will need to be recharged regularly.” 

“Well that’s great!” Dean said clapping his hands together and then rubbing them greedily. “So what makes the blade so special, Eros? Does it kill demons or something?” Dean reached out gingerly and scooped the machete into his hand once more. Eros looked at him, astonished. 

“Dean…that machete kills everything.” Dean looked up at him, blinking. 

“Come again?” 

“Everything, Dean. Nothing in existence will be left alive at the end of your machete.” 


	46. Chapter 46

Sam circled closer to the vampire he had strapped to the chair. Gabe could smell fear on the creature which Sam supposed was just what he wanted to know. When he decided to take this approach, he thought it would be easy to find a monster to corner but instead it has become increasingly harder. Wherever Serrath was hiding them, it was not in an open valley near a desolated town like last time. Sam knew the ultimate goal was for her to bring an assault down on Sam’s family to force his hand against them, so it shouldn’t be this damn hard to get answers about it! 

“Tell me again how it is you don’t know Serrath,” Sam probed and at the same time he used wisps of Grace to caress open the vampires mind. The vampire, looking to be about twenty or so, but probably centuries older, chattered his teeth involuntarily at the intrusion. 

“I don’t…I don’t…” he panted but Sam could picture her in his mind. Clouds of misty grey convoluting into the form of a person. It wasn’t really her but instead her shadow. Countless Shadows forming a small army of their own. Sam could see past them now. It was the woman he yearned to reach. 

“What did she tell you to do? What are your instructions?” Sam asked and he turned the wisps of Grace into a blade. The vampire screamed. Sam found torture distasteful. He really did. But there was a sort of eloquence in the way the mind can snap under psychic pressure that almost seemed satisfying. Like bursting a pustule or popping a water balloon. 

The vampire slumped over, eyes staring vacantly, and Sam sighed. Maybe not centuries old then. Probably only a few decades. His mind wouldn’t have broken so easily if he was any older than that. 

Turning, he looked at Gabriel who was idly resting in the corner. Their eyes met and Sam’s frustrations met Gabriel’s patient understanding. No words needed to be spoken beyond that. Staring down at the drooling vampire, Sam had an idea. It was far beyond anything he had ever tried before but… well it had already been two days since his last meeting with Crowley and he was running out of time. Numbly, he unstrapped the vampire from the chair. 

Getting down on his knees, Sam looked up into the vampires empty eyes and concentrated. His mind became a narrow channel of thought; almost an entity swirling inside him. He focused it smaller; tighter. Gabriel lifted his head and sniffed at the air. Softly he whined. 

“Shush, I know what I’m doing,” muttered Sam, when in truth he had no idea what he was doing! He continued to stare into those eyes; empty, open, like a vessel. Suddenly he saw it there. A doorway. Sam took his narrow channel of conscious thought, reached out, and opened the door. 

  


  


Sam stood up and looked at his feet. Gabriel was barking at him, but he had no idea what the dog was saying. On the other side of him…laid his own body. Sam smiled. Looking within himself, he realized that his name was Arnold James Bartholomew Jameson the fourth. But his friends called him Arnie. He was eighty nine years old. He grew up in the south, on the shorelines to Texas, and gutted fish in the local fishery for a living. 

He would steal the guts and take them home to feed to his wife and two children. It was how they survived during such hard times. That was of course until one late night and a set of fangs changed his future forever. Arnie was a part of a nest now and his wife and children were dead. His nest. 

Sam thought deeper and knew exactly where it was. It was a nest of about 9 but recently more have been coming to stay with them. And not all vampires either. It was the work of the Lady in Grey. The Chieftess. She brought them weapons too. Long rods that can send pulsing electricity through anything they come in contact with. Sam secretly hoped Demons could withstand such a device. He dug deeper and saw the Lady in Grey. Telling Arnie that he is special. That he would be the one to deliver to them the message of their fate. 

Sam had to wonder if she knew in some way that he would be doing all of this. It didn’t matter. Moving was an effort at first but Sam managed. He took a step forward, and then another, and then he looked down at a still barking Gabriel. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” he said and his voice sounded thick. Not at all like his own. “But I need you to protect my body until I get back. Please keep me safe.” Gabriel stopped barking then and instead fell into a keening whine. Sam ignored it and stepped out of the warehouse room. 

He embraced the darkness of the night and the body he wore seemed to almost glow in the moonlight. He took a deep breath in; scenting blood in the air. He noted absently the almost constant inner hunger that Arnie was feeling and thought to himself this is what it’s like to be a vampire. 

Then his mind turned outward; focusing, and Sam was able to almost see the path that led Arnie back to his nest. It was like a yellow line spray painted onto the asphalt leading him home. Sam followed it. In the back of his mind he noted the tether that held him to his actual body and he held onto it tightly. He knew this was risky. He knew that he could lose the tether and never find his way back to the body he belonged in. But he did something similar to this before with Dean so it wasn’t entirely new. He just needed to not let go of the tether. 

Sam started out walking but as he grew more confident, he broke into a run. Then, as he got closer to the nest, he fell into a sort of inhuman sprint that only vampires were capable of. He reached the entrance in no time and smiled. There were only a few hours left of pure night and he suspected he might be walking in to a full house. Good. The more at home, the more available to answer his questions. 

  


  


Eros had about a dozen books piled in front of him and his eyes gleamed when Castiel and Dean walked into the room. 

“This library is wonderful!” He exclaimed to them both and smiled. He really liked this little bunker that the Winchester’s had set up. He noticed that Castiel was spending a lot of time there. Probably living there from the looks of it, and Eros would love to be allowed to live there as well. He could spend so many days reading about the ancient knowledge acquired over the centuries by these scholarly humans. Or he could turn the shower room into a giant slip-and-slide like he wanted to do when he first laid eyes on it, and then there was the lab. That glorious glorious laboratory that no one was using. It was just sitting there, collecting dust, and a small voice seeping out of its walls called to Eros. It begged him to turn on its Bunsen burners again and discover. Discover. Discover. 

But Castiel never asked Eros to stay. It never even crossed his mind. He certainly didn’t ask Eros to leave either, but to just toss him to the wind for a month only to show up when he wanted Eros to help him and then not have the decency to invite him to stay…it hurt. Thinking about it, stung at his vulnerable heart and his smile fell from his face. 

“What have you discovered?” Castiel asked as he went to sit directly across from Eros. 

“Yeah, Cas said you had something to show us,” Dean said, a few feet behind. Eros has been working with the stupid human to teach him how to control his emotions better. He made some effort on his own, and while he seemed to be making progress when he seriously thought about it, he barely ever thought about it. Dean actually thought that the only times Castiel was at risk was during their love making. In truth, Castiel was never safe. He was always at risk around Dean. And while Eros was hurt that his brother was so focused on his human lover that he couldn’t see his kin desperately yearning for attention right in front of his eyes, he still didn’t want Castiel to die. So he trained Dean, all the while thinking about the thousands of things he would like to do to him in the name of science and discovery. 

“I have spent some time looking into the connection between Sam and Lucifer as Castiel instructed,” Eros said flatly while his eyes bored into Dean. Stupid human. He hardly deserved Castiel. “I started with the things that the demon Crowley had said regarding his discovery and went from there. I am quite certain I stumbled upon the same information or at least similar information to what he had discovered.” 

“That’s excellent news!” Castiel said with a wide endearing smile that made Eros almost want to cry. Stupid emotions. Stupid human emotions. “Tell us, Eros, please.” Eros stared at them both for a long time. The child in him; the boy that didn’t want to grow up, was tempted to stick out his tongue or give them the finger, but his heart…oh, Castiel. 

“Serrath intends to corrupt Sam’s sentinel soul,” Eros said and Castiel’s smile fell away in surprise. 

“I didn’t think such a thing was possible,” he said softly. 

“What does that mean?” Dean asked and Eros rolled his eyes. How did Castiel put up with him? It was like educating a cherub. 

“Sentinel souls, like you and your brother, are special human souls that are pardoned from the Ten Commandments to do God’s will.” 

“Like the FBI,” Castiel said, leaning towards Dean conspiratorially. Eros gave them both a face that expressed his displeasure at the analogy. 

“Where the commandments say that Thou Shalt Not Kill, the sentinels are able to kill with God’s forgiveness and pardon.” 

“Joan of Arc,” Castiel added, “William Phips.” 

“Really,” Dean asked, amazed. 

“There were a lot of witches in Salem, Dean,” Castiel said, looking at him with such serious intensity if was somewhat comical. 

“Anyway,” Eros said loudly, trying to return the attention to him, “Being that you are sentinel beings, your souls can not be corrupted. Or so I thought.” Castiel turned to Eros and frowned. This was news to him as well. 

“What do you mean? How is that possible?” 

“A lot of deaths, Castiel,” Eros said and his fingers brushed the cover of a book directly in front of him. “They need to be responsible for a lot of deaths.” 

“Thousands of deaths,” Dean whispered and Castiel’s eyes grew wide. 

“No! No no no no no!” Castiel was to his feet, backing away. His eyes a reflection of the deep seeded pain he was feeling. Eros’s heart hurt to see Castiel in this way. He already knew the score. 

“What?” Dean asked anxiously, “What do you know? Tell me!” Castiel looked at Dean and tears swam into his eyes. 

“Dean…” he pleaded but he couldn’t get the words out. Eros did him the favor. 

“There are times when a soul becomes so corrupted, it loses the ability to have free will. This was Serrath’s intention Dean. If Sam takes enough lives, his soul will no longer be pure. It will crack. Sentinel or no, he will warrant hostile takeover.” 

“I don’t understand,” Dean said urgently, his voice on the edge of panic, “Cas, explain it to me I don’t understand.” Castiel reached for Dean and took his hands. Smiling at him sadly, he finally found the voice to speak. 

“Lucifer will be able to take Sam as a vessel, Dean. Sam won’t have the right to refuse him anymore.” 

  


  


  


Sam walked into the main sleeping chamber of the vampire nest, and counted five vampires in waiting. Some smelled of fresh kill while others simply smelled of ash. It didn’t matter. They would all be dead come morning. 

“Arnie, what’s up with you?” The taller male asked. Sam knew him to be Andrew. “You smell…different.” 

“Take me to see the Lady in Grey,” Sam said in Arnie’s voice. “I have a message for her from Sam Winchester.” That seemed to get everyone’s attention rather quickly. Vampires were to their feet, hissing their distaste, but Sam only had eyes for Andrew. Andrew was the leader, he could tell. He could sense Arnie’s subservience to him. The fact that Sam was meeting his eyes directly was a challenge but it didn’t matter. Their hierarchy meant nothing to people like Sam and Serrath. 

After a moment Andrew nodded slowly. He could see in Sam’s eyes, and know the man behind Arnie’s mask as not Arnie. 

“Right, okay, right this way,” he said turning. Sam could see his thoughts as clear as day. The Grace coursing through him made it far too easy to tell deception. It was a wonder that Castiel never used his Grace in this way. If he had just put a little effort into cracking into the human brain and reading its contents like tea leaves in the bottom of a cup, he would have known when Sam or Dean were lying to him. He would have known everything about them in an instant. 

Sam followed Andrew back a narrow corridor that led to a distant hallway, and behind him, the five other vampires in waiting dropped like flies. Like maggots was more like it. It was just so damn simple; severing their spinal cords from their brains, just a slight nudge to send them eternally to their deaths. It didn’t even require beheading. 

  


  


  


  


“The more he kills, the more corrupt his soul becomes, and the easier it will be for him to do the killing,” Eros explained and Dean bit at his lip. This was bad. This was like the Mark of Cain bad. Were they already too late? Dean couldn’t even comprehend how many lives Sam has already winked out of existence. It made him more than just a little terrified of his brother. And now he has a dog with an endless well of Grace to just tap into whenever he pleased. Oh shit. Oh fuck. 

“All we can do is wait,” Castiel said decidedly, “I suspect Sam is going to probably contact us when he needs us. That demon mentioned that Serrath is targeting you, Dean. So there is very little Sam can do without us.” 

“We can’t just sit here, Cas!” Dean shouted but already Eros was nodding. 

“No, Castiel is right. We should wait for a little while longer. I think you will be of much use in the final battle, Dean, but I need to train with you more. Much more. We need to fine tune the connection you have with Castiel.” Dean opened his mouth to object but Castiel talked over him. 

“In the meantime, I will prepare a room for you, Eros. So that you can stay close at hand.” Eros gasped at this, his eyes wide on Castiel. 

“You…want me to stay?” he asked in a very childish voice. 

“It would only be temporary,” Castiel said nervously. “I don’t want to inconvenience you in any way but…it would help if you were here more often. For Dean’s sake.” Eros’s face fell, and his eyes sought out Dean. Dean swallowed under his glare. He suspected the two of them were never going to get along very well. 

“Fine,” Eros said curtly and got to his feet. “Dean, for the rest of the day, you belong to me. And tonight, you are making me pancakes.” Dean’s eyes about popped out of his head. He glanced over to Castiel, looking for a little backup to rescue him from his little brother, but Castiel only waved them both off and padded out of the room. 

Scowling, Dean sent a small tendril of angry-fuck-sex-lust emotion back the hallway and was satisfied to hear Castiel yelp. Suddenly, Eros smacked him hard. Really hard. Dean would have seen stars in a cartoon setting, and he shook his head to clear away the brain fuzz. 

“What the fuck, man!” Dean snapped but Eros was shoving him. He threw his shoulder into him hard, and Dean suddenly found himself pinned against a wall. 

“Castiel is not your play toy!” the boy angel growled through his teeth as he leered up at Dean. He was a good foot shorter than the hunter but he was fucking strong. Not to mention really pissed off. 

“I know, I get it,” Dean gasped, trying to wiggle free of Eros’s grasp. 

“You will treat him with respect. He loves you but he does not belong to you,” Eros said, his voice even harder and Dean stopped struggling. He looked down at Eros and really thought about what he said. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly and Eros let him go. 

“You will not apologize to me. You will apologize to Castiel.” Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Gently, he sent out the words. 

I’m sorry. 

A warm sunny feeling like a soft spring day returned to him, surrounding him, and Dean could almost cry from the pureness of Castiel’s love for him. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve anything that his angel gave him. 

“Good,” Eros said, “you’re learning.” Dean opened his eyes and looked down at Eros once more. 

“I don’t understand,” he said honestly and Eros rolled his eyes. 

“Of course you don’t. The problem is, Dean, you keep trying to fight the normal course of subservience. It is human nature to bow to angelic presence. The more you fight it, the more intense your emotions become. Love, longing, desire…they amplify when you are fighting against them with every action you take. You need to submit. Submit to Castiel.” Dean frowned. He didn’t like this one bit. Not one bit at all. 

  


  


  


Andrew led Sam into a large corridor lit by candlelight. In the middle, stood an alter decorated in blood, herbs, and sacrifice. 

“Here is your Lady in Grey,” Andrew said bitterly and Sam severed the spinal cord in his neck. He approached the alter, not interested in making a sacrifice to it, and instead pushed all previous offerings onto the floor with the force of his Grace. His Grace. He liked how that sounded. 

“Serrath!” He shouted, “It’s Sam Winchester. I must speak with you!” Mist swirled upon the alter and Sam stepped back as it expanded out to become a dress, a torso, hands; a face. 

“Hello Sam Winchester, tell me where your body is if you have taken it upon yourself to claim another.” Her voice was raspy and raw, barely more than the sound of insects crunching under a boot. 

“I want to see Serrath, not her shadow,” Sam said, showing obvious distaste in his expression but Serrath hissed. 

“Is that a tether I see on your back?” She whispered and Sam knew he was out of time. 

“Dean will be Wyoming in two days,” Sam said and he projected coordinates at the shadow before him. He hoped she got them, because he wasn’t going to stick around and find out. Reaching behind himself, to the darkest corner of his mind, Sam pulled on the tether, and felt himself being ripped out of Arnie’s body. 

An instant later, he sat up in the warehouse room gasping for breath. Gabriel sat up instantly, whining next to him. 

“Were you licking my face?” he asked, feeling stiff dried saliva on his skin. Gabriel looked away, not meeting his eye. “You shouldn’t have worried so much about me. I am fine. And I talked to Serrath. She knows where to meet us. Now all we have to do is go and get Dean. We’re going to Wyoming.” 

  



	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end!! Thanks for sticking with me through this crazy long journey. I absolutely love you all!

Crowley sat on his throne of Hell. Hell’s throne. Game of Hell. He hasn’t quite coined a name yet but he was working on one. In any case, he was utterly bored. Two days was what Sam had said and so he readied his armies and he waited. 

“Would it be so wrong to let Lucifer have Sam’s vessel?” Crowley asked aloud but none of his loyal subjects dared to answer. Crowley scanned the crowd before him and picked out one of the demons. “Mortimer!” He called and a thin spindly boy stepped forward. 

“Care to by assistant?” Crowley asked and Mortimer looked like he very much did _not_ want to be Crowley’s assistant but he nodded anyway. “Good. Tell me why we should not let Lucifer take Sam’s vessel?” 

“Because…he will probably kill you?” Mortimer said in a small trembling voice and Crowley nodded. Makes sense. “That is a good point, but tell me something. What if…we killed Sam instead? Hmm? Just killed him outright. Would there be any reason why we shouldn’t do that, Mortimer?” The demon swallowed against his nerves and looked around the room. 

“Anyone else?” Crowley asked looking around the room but silence was his only response. Crowley smiled at this. “Maybe…if it looked like an accident,” he said softly. Inside his pocket, his hand traced the edge of a rawhide bone. 

 

Dean woke to find Castiel sleeping beside him. It was not common for Cas to sleep like this, and even less common for him to sleep past Dean waking, but it was kind of nice to see Cas this way. Peaceful. Content. 

It had been days since he and Cas really spent any decent time together but Dean had been slaving over his ‘soul practice’ with Eros (his words, not Dean’s) and thought he might be ready to give things a little test run. That and he was dying to get Cas naked again. Nothing like trial by fire to see if he was doing things right. 

Dean fell into the void in his mind. That part was easy enough now. He nestled in there, and got nice and cozy. The problem before was that he held onto the void too strongly. It kept slipping away from him because he was trying too hard. It made sense that Eros said this part came more naturally to Sam. Sam was always quicker to accept the situation they were in over Dean. No longer fighting was tricky, but Dean worked at it and Eros was relentless. Now it came as second nature. He didn’t have to will the void to be there, it was just there. 

Dean let a thin tendril of desire slip between the cracks of his void and run along Castiel’s leg. The angel was fully dressed, laying above the covers of the bed, but it wasn’t his vessel Dean was caressing. It was the essence of Castiel’s true being. The one that he boasts to be taller than the Chrysler building. Well with it squeezed down into a tiny sexy human package, it wasn’t too hard for Dean to reach him in the right places. 

Castiel shifted, a soft high pitched moan escaping his lips, but he remained asleep. Dean smiled fondly. Eros was right about so many things. He shouldn’t have teased Castiel. Playing with him the way he had. Castiel deserved to be worshipped; to be revered above anything and everything else. Dean let the wisp of his emotion snake higher, past Castiel’s crotch to run the length of his chest. 

“Dean…” Castiel whispered sleepily and he parted his eyes just enough to look at the hunter. Dean smiled and let his hands join his spirit. He worked open the buttons of Cas’s shirt, and slid fingers along flesh to play gently at his left nipple. Cas leaned into the sensation and closed his eyes. He was calm, which was good, but he was also getting excited which was better. Dean pulled at his tie and leaned in close to let his teeth nip gently at Castiel’s sides. At his ribs. He could feel Cas’s hips hitch, rolling towards Deans lips, and Dean let his desire swirl around Castiel’s waist, holding him in place. 

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel gasped as Dean pulled at his clothing. He wanted his angel naked but not writhing. Wanting but not needing. He would heed Eros’s guidance. He would submit. 

“I liked watching you sleep,” Dean said, pulling away to take his own sweatpants and t -shirt off. Castiel looked up at him, his eyes lazy and hooded. His skin flushed pink and firm. “You looked so beautiful. So peaceful.” Dean felt like a girl saying this stuff. He really did. But Eros said he needed to worship Cas not own him, and Dean was amazed to see the firelight behind Cas’s eyes. He moaned louder and his hands trailed up his own body. Fuck but Dean just wanted to… no. He would submit. 

He leaned over, naked and hard from the influence of morning, and took Castiel’s flaccid dick into his mouth. The angel groaned, his hips working against Dean to gain more advantage, and Dean let him. Castiel, bashful at taking charge, needed to call the shots this time. Dean split his desire into two and drew the tendrils of emotion up and down Cas’s body while his mouth worked the angel hard. 

“Dean…oh, Dean…you’re so good to me,” Castiel said through hitching breaths and Dean sucked him harder; making the muscles of his stomach spasm; making him groan out whatever else he wanted to say. This next part made him nervous but Dean wanted Cas so much. He wanted Cas in every way imaginable as he has told himself so many times before. This was just one more way, was it not? One more step to bring them closer together. To bond them together in an eternity of love and unity which was all Dean really wanted. Cas. His Cas. Eternally. Dean pulled away from Castiel and looked up into his liquid eyes. 

“Cas,” Dean said, a tremor in his voice, “I need you to help me with this.” 

“What Dean?” Cas whispered, breathless and aching, “anything.” Nervously, Dean pulled away from his angel and reached into his top dresser drawer. He pulled out a bottle of lubricant and returned to rejoin his lover in bed. 

“I need you to prep me because I have never done this before,” he said, his face on fire, his voice husky and low. Castiel’s eyes studied the lubricant, and then they lifted to peer up at Dean; deep blue between thick black lashes. Blue to green. Always blue to green. 

“Lay on your stomach,” he whispered. 

 

Eros groaned miserably and stuffed a pillow over his head. Dean was projecting again. Projecting! Projecting! Projecting! And the _things_ he was projecting! Eros did not want to see Castiel like that. No, no, no! He thought he was getting somewhere with the hunter but obviously they were going to have to start back at the basics. At least Castiel had enough sense to channel some of his excess Grace into the machete. Eros could feel it glowing like a beacon just a short distance away. Even if Dean doesn’t get it all figured out, he won’t explode Castiel as long as he continues to not be the aggressor, and he won’t overwhelm Castiel as long as Castiel can funnel into the fulcrum. So either way Castiel stays alive which was great news for Eros. 

Eros threw back his covers and got to his feet. It was morning anyway and Dean owed him some pancakes. He padded down the hall, past the older Winchester’s room and winced at all the _sounds_ coming from within in. The moaning and the panting and the _“Dean! Cas! Dean! Cas!”_

Eros never wanted to meet his soul-bound. Ever! Between Castiel and his rabbit fornication, and Gabriel with his puppy eyes, Eros was the only angel actually _sane_ around there. Ugh! He rounded the corner to the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Oh. Hello,” Eros said and Sam lifted his head. He looked absolutely miserable. 

“Eros, how long has this been going on?” Sam asked and Eros glanced down to see Gabriel whimpering on the kitchen floor, his paws rubbing at his ears. Images flashed in Eros’s mind from Gabriel. Dean and Cas. Cas and Dean. Dean projecting, projecting, projecting! 

“I see that Gabriel has been kind enough to share the wealth of knowledge with you,” Eros mused and Sam groaned. 

“Make him stop, Eros! Make Gabe stop,” Sam whined but one steadying look from Gabe made it clear to Eros that wasn’t going to happen. 

“You have come to see Dean then? You have a plan to stop Serrath?” Eros asked, trying to distract his mind. Sam just groaned. 

“I can’t think about that right now!” Sam said miserably and Eros nodded. If nothing else, at least Dean seemed to be really enjoying himself. And Castiel…he was beyond simple words like bliss, ecstasy, rapture. 

“There is something you must know about this battle, Samuel,” Eros said, wincing against the images pounding at his brain, “You are in great danger.” A knock sounded at the door and Gabriel lifted his head to look up at Sam. 

“I better see who that is,” Sam said and Eros agreed, following him. They made their way to the bunker entrance, somewhat leery and highly distracted, but when Sam opened the door, Eros didn’t expect to see the rumpled man standing on the other side. 

“Shawn?” Eros exclaimed and Sam smiled openly at the last living Chosen. 

“Hey, man, it’s good to see you!” he said reaching out to give the man a hug but was surprised with Shawn shied away. Eros knew that Shawn had been given instructions on how to get to the bunker if he ever needed them and also phone numbers to call but it had been months. Everyone just assumed he went back to his normal hunter routine. Eros had collected his Recurve from him long ago and healed any lasting effects the bow might have had on him which were minimal. Now, seeing him like he was…Shawn looked paranoid. Strung out. Scared. 

“Eros,” he said, eyes pleading, “I need to talk to you. Alone.” Eros glanced at Sam and at Gabriel, and then looked back to Shawn nodding. 

“Yes, of course,” he said hesitantly. The old Eros would have just blew the human off and slammed the door in his face. But he was trying to do better by his brother. Eros wanted to be just like Castiel. Maybe not Castiel in that very moment but… “Sam, I’m just going to go for a quick walk with Shawn. I’ll be back in thirty minutes and then we can talk, okay?” 

“Of course,” Sam said with a smile and Eros slipped out the door. When the bunker door slid shut behind him, Eros turned toward Shawn and started to walk into the woods. 

“It is good to see you again,” Eros said, lying. He was learning that sometimes humans preferred lies over the honest truth. Castiel showed him that. Perhaps this interaction with Shawn would be a good way for him to experiment in the area of social interactions. This could be another opportunity at discovery. 

“I’m sorry, Eros,” Shawn said softly and Eros turned to look at him, confused. Suddenly a cuff snapped around his wrist and Eros jerked away reflexively. But he couldn’t move. Eros flapped his wings, trying to retreat but they wouldn’t bend. His breath grew short and shallow. He couldn’t breathe! He couldn’t breathe! “I’m so sorry,” Shawn said again as the world swam around him and everything drifted to black. Eros didn’t even know he had fallen until he smelled the moist earth against his face. It was the last thing he registered before sleep took him. 

 

“What happened!” Castiel demanded and Gabriel whined. He glared at his brother and then up at Sam. Behind him, he could sense Dean. Sense him far more clearly than he ever had before. His mind was humming over what had happened between them, but he couldn’t think about that now. His brother was missing. “Tell me!” Gabriel whined again, drooping his head low like the bad dog he was and Sam looked just as miserable. 

“It was Shawn. He came saying he wanted to talk to Eros alone. I didn’t think…I didn’t suspect…” 

“We are at war!” Castiel screamed and his eyes blazed with the blue of his fury. “How could you possibly think that he was safe?” He wanted to choke Sam. He wanted to kick Gabe. He was so angry he shook from the restraint of keeping himself back from them. Dean’s hands fell on him. Soothing him. Gentle images bled into his mind, desperate to calm him. 

“Cas, please. We’ll get him back. We will get him back,” Dean pleaded. Gentle words at his ear while his soul wove sweet bliss through Castiel’s mind. Cas couldn’t stay mad, no matter how much he wanted to, and when the anger fell away, all that was left was deep gut wrenching despair. 

“Dean,” he said as his face fell into tears. He cried and Dean pulled him into his arms. “He’s just a boy, Dean. They will break him. He’s just a boy!” 

“I know,” Dean said, his voice hard with anger for those that took Eros from them. “We will get him back. We will find a way.” 

“I don’t understand why they even took him,” Sam said and Castiel looked at him. Anger threatened to take reign of him again but he stamped it down. He shoved it away hard. 

“You, Sam. They took him because of you,” was all he could say. Dean was kind enough to speak on Castiel’s behalf and explain the corruption of Sam’s soul and Lucifer gaining access without his consent. These were things that Sam clearly did not know but they didn’t seem to surprise him too greatly either. 

“I suspected,” he said softly, “that something wasn’t right with me. I feel this tightening in my chest. Killing has become…natural.” His words made Castiel want to shiver and he looked away to hide his disgust. 

“But that still doesn’t explain why they wanted Eros.” Dean said, looking back to Castiel. Gabriel barked. Loud and clear like a happy dog on a summer day with a Frisbee heading towards him. Castiel looked over to see Sam staring down at his companion. “What Sam? What did he say?” 

“A funnel,” Sam said, suddenly nervous. “They need a funnel to siphon Lucifer from his cage into my body.” 

“A funnel like Eros made before,” Dean said, understanding sinking in. 

“When he pulled Gabriel from Sam’s mind and placed him in his new body,” Castiel said, finally finding his voice. _Oh, Eros_. Castiel closed his eyes. 


	48. Chapter 48

Eros opened his eyes and squinted against the bright lights blasting down upon him. He blinked a few times, trying to bring the room into focus, and the first person that came into view was Shawn. Stupid human. Eros winced at the pain in his skull. 

“I’m sorry, Eros,” Shawn said mournfully. “They were going to take my kid. They were going to-“ 

“Silence,” came a pearly soft voice of a woman’s lilt and a shadow crossed past the blaring light. Suddenly a body thudded against the ground. Eros blinked again, struggling to see clearly. He was certain that was Shawn. “Hello little angel,” the voice sounded again and the shadow stood in front of the light once more. Eros squinted again; blinking, struggling to see more clearly. 

“Do you know where you are?” the woman asked and Eros’s eyes explored the room. Everything was a blur. A swimmy blur. 

“I don’t-“ his voice broke. His throat dry. 

“Do you know…where you are?” She asked again and stepped closer. Her face swam into focus and Eros could see that his captor was beautiful. Her hair was the color of Eros’. Black and oily in the light. Her skin dark like char and ashes but still smooth and supple; yearning for touch. Her eyes, the deepest shade of violet and round like a deers. Inviting trust. Begging salvation. The ever yearning damsel. 

“Serrath,” Eros wheezed because who else could she possibly be? Of course she was Lucifer’s soul-bound. Only the most beautiful would suit the first born angel of heaven. Serrath smiled, the true witch and not her shadowed counterparts, and Eros suppressed a shiver. 

“I don’t think you will need this,” she said pleasantly and Eros could feel a cuff being unlocked and released from his hand. Suddenly the room slammed into focus and his wits returned to him full tilt. Eros gasped, taking in his surroundings, and his eyes fell wide on Serrath. 

Behind her Shawn laid on a cement floor; his neck at an odd angle and his eyes unfocused for all eternity. Around him, the room was illuminated with lights; heat lamps Eros suspected from the temperature, and in the middle stood Serrath. Glorious and gorgeous and terrifyingly deadly. She smiled and Eros knew he was up to his neck in deep dung. 

“You will have to forgive the accommodations. I am not quite used to these…colder climates, you see,” Serrath said pleasantly. She swirled around in a long deep red evening gown that hugged at her ample hips. Opera gloves in black adorned her arms as well, with the creamy ebony of her skin peaking just above the cuff before the sleeve of the dress swallowed the rest of her. She was dark and exotic and Eros felt compelled to stare and stare. She turned to him, her violet eyes playing against the light like deep cool flames. “I will ask you again. Do you know where you are?” 

Eros looked around. They were in a vacant room like…a garage? A storage unit perhaps? He had no idea. But then he suspected her question carried more weight than a simple location on Earth. It was then that Eros looked down. He was strapped to a throne of white. It had golden scrollwork that edged up the legs, and within that scrolling, thousands of faces were hidden. Laughing, sobbing, crying, and dying. Eros could feel his breath quicken. 

His eyes lifted and he realized that around the throne was a low wooden box. A box similar to those where witnessed gave testimonial. Or where the sinful went to repent. 

“I’m in a Confessional,” Eros said and he was proud at how little his voice trembled. Castiel wouldn’t tremble. Castiel would sneer at Serrath and spit in her face. Eros wanted so desperately to be like Castiel. Serrath smiled. A slice of brilliant white teeth against the brown silk of her skin. 

“You are in a Confessional,” she agreed. 

“But they were all destroyed. Stricken from the history books. They were an abomination against God,” Eros pleaded although he knew the truth of it. No matter what history states, things always fall through the cracks. Stuff gets overlooked. Confessionals do not get destroyed as they should. Serrath didn’t bother to respond. Instead, she leaned over and lit the first of three candles that decorated the front of the box like an alter. 

“Please,” Eros pleaded, feeling the deep shame that came with his weakening resolve, but Serrath didn’t look at him. She just lit the second candle instead. If she asked him for information he would have given it. If she told him to do something, he would have done it. Anything was better than this. Anything else he could survive. When the last candle was lit, Eros gasped. He could feel it. He could feel the tiny fingers just on the surface of his brain waiting for him to speak. Waiting for him to break. 

“Tell me Eros,” Serrath said and at last her eyes lifted to look into his, “why did you pull Gabriel’s ghost from Sam Winchester’s mind?” 

“I did it for Castiel,” Eros said without hesitation. Voices hissed all around him. 

_Confession! Confession! Confession!_

Suddenly fingers dug into his brain and Eros threw his head back to scream. He did not know what Castiel would do in his place. Would he welcome the pain, would he fight it? Would he scream? Would he simply stare? Eros wanted so badly to be like his older brother. He wanted to make Castiel proud of him. But we was scared. So scared. 

“That was not a confession!” Eros cried, and he could feel his vessel trembling. 

“So tell me,” Serrath asked, “when Castiel told you to stop. Told you to no longer pull Gabriel from Sam Winchester’s mind, why did you continue to do it?” 

“Because,” Eros said, and then stopped to swallow the bile rising up his throat. “Because I wanted to continue my work. I wanted to have discovery.” 

_Confession! Confession! Confession!_

Eros felt something strain in his throat as he screamed at the ceiling. The pain ignited on every inch of his body and his nerves and synapses went into overdrive. Father but it hurt. _Castiel! Castiel!_

_“_ That was not a confession!” Eros wheezed. His voice turning to gravel. 

“Very interesting, Eros, I am curious to know. Which matters more to you then? Your brother or discovery? If you had to choose, which would it be?” 

Eros stared at the witch, deep into her violet eyes, and felt his mouth move. Even if he didn’t want to answer, he had no choice. The Confessional took all choice away from him. 

“I choose that which I created,” Eros whispered. Preparing for the pain. “I choose love.” 

_Confession! Confession! Confession!_

Eros howled as the room swam around him. He would beg for death if it would be granted to him. He would do anything to stop the agony. 

“That was not a confession!” Eros wailed against the night. 

 

 

“Wait here,” Sam said and Dean nodded. He glanced at Castiel who frowned morosely at the two brothers but he was glad the angel had enough sense not to object. Dean has been used as live bait before and really, with the plan they had in place, Dean would be way out of danger before the first clash of battle even started. Cas would zap him out, no problem. He just needed to be the thing the monsters would focus on so they didn’t see Sam coming up in the flank. Not that Sam was really clear on that part. He said it involved Crowley and the way Cas got all prickly at the name being mentioned, Dean thought it best to just trust Sam had it under control. 

Sam reached out, arms stretched wide, and for an instant he looked like the old Sam. The one Dean knew back before Gabriel and Castiel and angels, demons, heaven, hell. Dean stepped forward and welcomed his brother’s hug. 

“Don’t you dare get hurt out there,” Dean growled through his teeth, suddenly feeling too emotional and girly for his liking. Sam didn’t respond, just hugged him tighter, and then the brothers pulled away. They looked at each other, eyes reflecting upon all the things they didn’t need to say, and then Sam turned and trotted across the grasslands with Gabe running beside him. 

“Fucking Wyoming,” Dean mumbled as he looked around at the large empty prairie; nothing but bison and mountains in the distance. 

“It’s a fitting place for a war,” Castiel said, his eyes constantly scanning the horizon, “no civilians for miles and miles.” Dean scoffed. 

“It’s not going to be a war. Just a bunch of confused monsters against Sam and whatever he has cooked up with Crowley.” That prickly sensation wafted from Castiel again: Jealousy-hurt-possessiveness and Dean wrinkled his nose like it was a bad smell. 

“And what happens when he starts killing all these monsters? How many more deaths until his soul breaks?” Cas asked and Dean shrugged nervously. 

“He said he won’t have to kill anyone. I just hope he’s right.” The vision of Sam surrounded by an army swam through Dean’s mind again and he swallowed hard. He didn’t like this plan any more than Castiel did but what other chance did they have? Serrath wanted to go after the people Sam loved to tip him over the edge. Well here they were. So where was she? 

A lone horn sounded in the distance and Dean turned to see a parade of people break through a hole in time. He didn’t know what else to call it. It was like the fabric of existence was pulled aside and out walked…monsters. Thousands of monsters. More monsters than Dean knew existed in the world. 

“Fuck!” Dean breathed, unable to say anything else and Castiel clutched at his arm. 

“Dean we have to get out of here,” he said urgently but Dean shook his head. He lifted his jacket and unsheathed the machete that was housed there. He thought, in honor of Eros, he should give the weapon a name. Eros seemed to like to name everything something so…he decided to call it Arrow. It was Eros’s Arrow. The finest blade he ever wielded. He was definitely not going to cower like a weakling with this in his hands. 

“Not yet, Cas. We have to be the bait, remember? We need to direct the focus of the attack.” Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a long length of leather cord. Without removing his eyes from the monsters approaching, Dean wrapped the cord around the hand holding Arrow to secure the weapon to him more firmly. 

“Dean!” Castiel groaned and he sent waves of worry, trepidation, anxiety, fear. Dean pushed the thoughts away. His soul reached out and with all the love he could muster, he wrapped Castiel in a spiritual embrace. 

“I love you,” he said softly. Then he broke into a run. 

Sam watched Dean run towards the monsters, distracting them as he was instructed to, and he smiled fondly for his brave big brother. 

“Ever the loyal squirrel, is he not?” Crowley said in his husky voice. Sam turned to greet the King of Hell with a snarky retort, but his words died away at the amass of people that stood behind him. Ten thousand demons. _Ten thousand demons._ Sam was in awe but also a bit terrified. He was in way over his head with this one. 

“Dean is safe. He has Castiel with him,” Sam said and Crowley’s mouth twisted into a frown. 

“Of course,” he said absently, and then bent over to greet Gabe. The dog padded over to him jovially and Crowley produced a rawhide from his pocket. “Hello darling,” he said with a smile as his hands sank into Gabriel’s fur. 

“Quite the dog lover, aren’t you?” Sam remarked offhandedly. Crowley continued to smile and work hands deep into Gabe’s mane. 

“I absolutely adore dogs. The sweet kind, not the scary meat-tearing hell-hound kind. Problem is they don’t much care for me.” His voice took on a sad tone and Sam had to wonder about past canine interactions Crowley might have had. “But Gabe here,” he went on, returning to his previous state of chipper, “he doesn’t mind me in the least. I should have looked for an angelic dog,” he mused although they both knew Gabriel was the only one of his kind. 

Sam turned his attention back to the field and watched Dean getting closer to the monsters. They had caught sight of him now, and many of them broke into a run. 

“Crowley,” Sam said, deep in thought, “Dean really didn’t need to be here, did he?” Crowley gave Gabe one final pat and then rose to his feet to stand next to Sam. 

“Probably not,” he admitted with a shrug. Sam was so focused on how to strategize against an army without killing any of them, that he didn’t even give much thought as to Dean’s role. But he was certain Crowley did. 

“Then why put him in this position? Why risk him like this?” Sam asked and Crowley turned to look at him with a calculated sneer. 

“You and your lovely brother down there have always treated me like a Winchester whipping post. Do you know why I endured it for so long? Revenge. Dean was supposed to be my friend. We were supposed to raise hell together. He turned on me the second you showed up in his life again and threw me in the dirt. I was made a laughing stock in my own kingdom! And now, he’s mooning over that stupid angel. Well…what’s one more dead Winchester as long as Lucifer stays in his cage, right?” 

Sam fumed. He was beyond rage at hearing this and he turned to look Crowley dead in the eyes. He supposed it was his own stupid fault for ever thinking they could put stock in a demon. He should never have gotten the demons involved in this. Now he has the King of Hell challenging him with the statement that he intended to send Dean on some suicide mission, and ten thousand demons are standing at Sam’s back. Forcing his anger down, Sam gave Crowley a thin smile. Crowley returned it in kind. 

“Maybe we can talk about this more later,” Sam suggested and Crowley nodded amicably. 

“Of course. As soon as you get back,” he said and took a step away. “The army is yours to command, Samantha. Maybe you should have Gabriel stay with me? You know, for safe keeping.” Sam looked down at Gabriel and the dog huffed once. 

_I will stay. Watch over the demon to make sure he’s not going to do something bad. Use my Grace. Take all my Grace. I am yours and yours alone._

Sam smiled sadly at his friend. “Very well,” he said, meeting Crowley’s eyes, and then he turned and made his way down the gentle slope of the hill at a run. He could hear the pound of ten thousand demon feet echoing behind him. 


End file.
